You Again
by hoshiakari7
Summary: Draco Malfoy runs into Hermione Granger several years after the war and ends up working for her in the Ministry of Magic. Sparks fly, but with Hermione still dating Ronald Weasley, will it lead anywhere? Can they overcome prejudices or will they give in to their feelings?
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hello everybody! I'm publishing this on a whim, mostly because it's taken up space on my 'doc manager' tab for far too long. I'd written this not long after I finished my 'Panem's Golden Boy' fic (I might have even started writing it while writing the last chapters... but I digress) so it's definitely been a while since I'd written it (although I have edited it a couple of times ever since). So please forgive if the writing is lacking, I'm still human after all.

The chapters in this fic aren't long (no more than 3k words) so if you find yourself enjoying this first chapter, do let me know how many times a week I should update. I'm leaning towards three... but that decision is in your hands now. I have most of the fic written although I am missing a couple of chapters in the middle. I have yet to write the end, though, but I do know how I want it to end.

This is my first foray into the Dramione fandom and without further ado... I hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

Draco Malfoy looked up at the dreary sky, noticing how the puffy white clouds from earlier had been replaced by fat and gray ones. Also, was it him or was there a certain chill in the air?

_Not good… this is a brand new, extremely expensive coat and I won't stand to have a few raindrops ruin it._

So he ducked into Flourish and Blott's, shifting the parcel that he carried in his hands and tucked it securely under his arm.

The little bell atop the door tinkled, causing the people near the entrance to turn to look at him. They stared with wide eyes, quickly leaning to their companions in whispered tones as Draco strode into the bookstore, smiling uneasily at nobody in particular.

_Yes… it's me, Draco Malfoy, the big bad Death Eater who's going to whisk your children into the night to teach them all about the Dark Arts. Mwahahaha!_

Even that sounded ridiculous in his head and he couldn't help but roll his eyes. However, in doing so, he caught sight of the second floor of the bookstore and that it was seemingly deserted, so he made a beeline for the stairs to avoid being on the receiving end of any more unwanted attention.

He felt some of the tension leave his shoulders as his polished shoes sunk into the plush burgundy carpet, finding the silence of the towering and cramped bookcases comforting. An unexpected wave of nostalgia hit him as he thought of all the hours he used to spend in the library back in Hogwarts. Still, he couldn't help but push a fuzzy, incoherent thought away at finding the bookcases to be safe haven from the crowd downstairs.

_Oh, thank Merlin. What I'm looking for is bound to be up here, anyway. Now I remember why I stayed out of the public eye for ages… the incessant whispers and stares are bound to get old. I just loathe how they inevitably end up comparing me to father. 'Like father, like son' they tell me with infuriating, know-it-all smiles._

Frowning, Draco shook his head.

_No, this is not the time to be focusing on that… I'll be starting a job at the Ministry soon and I'll need to be as prepared and knowledgeable as possible. I'd hate to start without having some sort of upper hand in the matter._

Thunder rumbled in the distance as he heard the unmistakable sound of raindrops pound against the roof. That and the dim lighting in the bookstore made Draco feel rather cozy and thus began to search for the book that would aid him most. He started at the very top shelf, slowly moving down. He mumbled the titles to himself, often taking one out to inspect it further when the name sounded promising.

The rain got heavier and soon heard the bell ring once again but paid no attention, focusing on the task at hand. Still, he could hear excited murmurs and glanced with annoyance over his shoulder to see a crowd of witches surround something, or rather, some_body_.

_Easily entertained, these people are. Must be someone famous, then… it really is none of my concern._

He delved deeper into the bookshelves, oftentimes running his slim index finger over the book spines as his grey eyes flickered from title to title.

Draco heard soft but eager footsteps climb up the stairs and saw someone out of the corner of his eye dash by the bookshelves but paid no closer attention, refusing to let himself get sidetracked.

_By Salazar, this book might just be it. Though this one looks interesting too… well, why not get both? It's not like the extra reading will cause me any hindrance; on the contrary, I'm sure it would help me seem much more well-informed. Plus it would help me look good and I need as much leverage as I can get, especially with the family and checkered past I've got._

Draco stared at the hefty tomes in thought.

_As a matter of fact, this will be the first time my surname won't be of any help. Father would find that appalling… as he should. My only comfort is knowing how far he's fallen from grace._

He chuckled darkly but then heard someone muttering distractedly on the other side of the bookshelf.

"_Autograph… Golden Trio… war heroine… privilege…_"

He arched and eyebrow and walked slowly toward the source of the mumbling, pausing as the person extracted a book and flipped through the pages absentmindedly. Tilting his head slightly, he narrowed his eyes in concentration as he took in the person's face. Once again, something in the back of his head nagged at him but Draco shoved the thought away.

_Looks… eerily… familiar…_

He continued to stare for a few more minutes until his thoughts cleared, an alarm blaring off in his head.

"Granger?" he whispered incredulously.

She'd been reading to herself but suddenly froze, eyes widening slightly. She raised her head as she looked around slowly, undoubtedly thinking it must have been her imagination. Finally she shrugged and started to put the book back in its place when she caught sight of Draco's eyes, watching her. She stared into them, squinting with slight concentration, for a few moments before letting out a loud gasp that was mercifully masked by a roll of thunder.

Draco felt his mouth drop open rather inelegantly as she stared back at him. Though he couldn't see all of her face, it was obvious that she had changed quite a bit. All too soon she disappeared from sight and he blinked in confusion, turning to his left as he saw her peek at him from the edge of the bookshelf, her heavy braid drooping over her shoulder.

"Granger, it _is_ you," he muttered, unable to believe that he was really looking at her.

She stepped fully into sight and Draco felt his mouth drop even more, his grey eyes moving from her feet up to her face. She wore Muggle clothing which consisted of dark fitted denim, a long khaki hooded trench coat and what looked like leopard print flats. Her face was makeup-free yet somehow managed to look glowing despite that the state of her hair and clothes were sopping wet.

"_You again_," she murmured faintly, clutching the book she was holding onto so tightly that her fingers were turning white.

Draco couldn't help but chuckle, she looked as if she'd seen a ghost. Still, he took a few steps closer to her, never once taking his eyes from hers.

"The years have been good to you," he spoke, unable to filter his thoughts.

She watched him warily, looking as though her feet were frozen to the ground.

"Thank you. You look… well, very much the same, actually," she admitted, warm brown eyes studying him. "Not as pointy, perhaps."

He let out a humorless chuckle and stopped at arm's length away from her.

"What brings you here?" he asked, feeling a sudden bout of chattiness.

"To the bookstore?" she responded uncertainly, raising her delicate brows in question.

At once, Draco felt embarrassed at asking such an obvious question but refused to back down out of pure obstinacy.

"It really shouldn't come as big surprise, I suppose. You practically lived at the library in Hogwarts," he recalled fondly.

"Well… yes," she said, clearly disconcerted. "But the bigger question is: why are _you_ here? If memory serves, you weren't much for studying."

He smirked at her, eyes sparkling mischievously.

"I had better things to do. It wasn't easy, you know, being me," he said pompously, smiling lazily.

Hermione rolled her eyes but he noted that she couldn't quite contain the smile that threatened to take over her lips.

"Oh, I'm sure being the Slytherin Prince was _so_ demanding," Hermione mocked, pouting exaggeratedly.

"I resent the tone. But you're correct. It was no easy feat looking so good and sweeping girls off their feet, along with being Snape's favorite. Of course, can't forget making you, Potter and Weasley's life miserable."

She snorted in an unladylike manner but Draco somehow found it strangely... disarming.

"So, going back to my original question, what brings you here?" she asked, eyeing the books he held against his chest with interest.

"Just doing a bit of research for my new job."

"Oh? Is that so? Well, congratulations," she nodded respectfully.

"Thank you, Granger. I really am looking forward to starting and creating a new life for myself."

She watched him intently before giving him a hint of a smile.

"If you focus yourself on it as much as you did tormenting us, then I'm sure you'll do great," she told him with a sardonic twist of her mouth.

Draco chuckled softly despite himself, feeling a corner of his own twitch up.

"Thank you, it sure means a lot coming from 1/3 of the Golden Trio."

She rolled her eyes and sighed with exasperation.

He'd noticed that there were a few wisps of hair framing her face; some sticking to it while others were already drying, curling slightly and his fingers had the strangest urge to sweep them back.

"It was cute back in the day, now it's just old," she muttered tetchily, referring to what they called her, Potter and Weasley. "Well, I won't take up any more of your time. Good luck with your job. It was, er, interesting catching up."

Draco felt an odd dread grip his heart and found that he wasn't quite ready for this meeting to end.

"Thank you, Granger. It was good seeing you," he told her honestly, roaming his eyes all over her face just in case he never saw her again.

Maybe it was his imagination but her cheeks reddened slightly as she stared at him openly. She seemed to catch herself, clearing her throat and giving him one last nod before brushing past him.

_She smells like vanilla._

He whirled around and stared after her retreating figure, watching how her braid swayed with every step she took away from him.

_She looks so different but somehow manages to be the same. How is that possible? I see now what I was too stubborn, prejudiced and blind to see back then._

He thought back to the very first time he met her, back on the Hogwarts Express.

(flashback)

_Draco was seated sideways on the seat, legs spread out before him and crossed at the ankle. He'd been pigging out with Crabbe and Goyle, making them eat the gross Every Flavor Beans and was in the process of opening a Chocolate Frog when the door to their compartment was rudely slid open. He stared at the girl with displeasure, not containing the snicker that bubbled in his throat as he noticed her hair; it was thick, bushy and it looked incredibly untamed. She too, however, already wore her robes and was looking under the seats imperiously._

"_Have you boys seen a toad? A boy Neville has lost his," she sighed, undoubtedly finding the very act irresponsible._

"_If I had a toad, I'd lose it too," Draco smirked, glancing at his cronies as if giving them permission to laugh._

_They guffawed and Draco felt himself fill with pride. The girl, however, didn't seem terribly impressed._

"_Well, if you happen to see it, would you please return it to him? We're three compartments over," she pointed._

_She started to turn to leave but he called out to her, asking for her name. She turned instantly, a big smile gracing her round face._

**_My, she has awfully large front teeth. How dreadful. Couldn't her parents have fixed that for her?_**

"_My name is Hermione Jean Granger. Yours?"_

"_That is quite a mouthful for someone so small," he remarked thoughtlessly._

_She pursed her lips at him, shooting him an annoyed look._

"_Draco Lucius Malfoy."_

_She raised her eyebrows but said nothing._

**_All the better for her. Still, she must not be familiar with my family or else she would have practically bowed down to me. But then that must mean… No matter, in time she'll realize who I am._**

"_Well then, I suppose I'll be seeing you around, Draco Lucius Malfoy."_

"_Don't flatter yourself, Granger," Draco scoffed, giving his buddies a sideways smirk._

_They started laughing stupidly while she simply rolled her eyes and removed herself from his compartment. He watched the last of her big bushy head and felt a strange sense of relief as she vanished._

**_There's something about her…_**

(end flashback)

Draco sighed and stared at nothing, the memory of 11-year-old Hermione Granger burning into his mind while the scent of a grown Hermione Granger lingered in the air, teasing him. He shook himself out of his reverie, making his way to pay for the books, trying to ignore the stares and murmurs that never ceased to shadow him wherever he went.

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Thoughts? Concerns? Inquiries?

Thank you for taking the time to read, I genuinely appreciate it. :)


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks for following, reviewing and putting the story to favorite, I truly appreciate it!

Disclaimer: I still own nothing.

* * *

Hermione Apparated into her flat, feeling slightly shaken and it had nothing to do with being caught in the rain. She dropped her new book onto the coffee table, flicking her wand toward her fireplace where a merry fire began to crackle as though it'd been burning for hours. She took her coat off, hanging it on a hook and slipped her flats off one by one, feeling the fire warm her slowly. She went into her bedroom to change into a soft pair of sweatpants and thick pair of wool socks, smiling in comfort. She walked back to her living room, grabbed her book and plopped herself down in front of the fire, tucking her legs underneath her. She opened the book, pleased for thinking of waterproofing it before leaving the store so the pages wouldn't get damaged. She inhaled deeply, relishing the scent of it and settled herself to start reading when the unbidden thought of Draco Malfoy popped into her head.

_He looked… so different, yet very much the same after all. Did he really compliment me or am I just going barmy? His hair is still the same white blond, eyes still icy and grey… though his features certainly matured. He did look thin, though… dressed in black, as usual. It always did suit him perfectly, to be honest. I can't believe it's been five years since I last saw him… how time flies._

Hermione stared into the fire, remembering the last time she'd seen him.

(flashback)

_He sat in the seat, wrists shackled to the armrests. He looked gaunt, tired yet there seemed to be a dull sort of hope in his eyes, or perhaps it was one of sheer desperation. His hair was mussed and long and his clothes surprisingly torn and dirty. Hermione couldn't believe the man sitting before her was the pompous and vainglorious Draco Malfoy who used to check his reflection in the back of spoons (ostensibly to check that no hair was out of place, Hermione thought to herself) and never seemed to have one article of uniform out of place, from the green and silver tie tucked into his vest down to the smallest detail like his perfectly looped shoelaces. _

_Ron kept glaring at him, muttering how he should be sent to Azkaban for life while Harry seemed to be looking everywhere but directly at the youngest Malfoy._

"_Do you, Draco Lucius Malfoy, declare yourself to be guilty of treason and torture?"_

_He sat slumped in his chair, not bothering to look at Kingsley Shacklebolt, now head of the Wizengamot._

"_Yes," he spoke clearly, a nerve jumping in his cheek._

"_You, however, claim you were blackmailed and threatened to do so. Is that correct?"_

"_That is correct."_

"_Would you please elaborate?"_

"_I'm sure you're well aware of who my father is—"_

"_Here we go," Ron huffed, rolling his eyes dramatically._

_Hermione gave him a hard look and nudged his side._

"_He's known to be one of… the Dark Lord's supporters. As a matter of fact, you could say my father was his right hand. To the degree that when the Dark Lord was short of a wand, my father had the 'privilege' to hand over his," he said, raising his head yet looking at nothing._

_At this, the witches and wizards in the court gasped._

"_Bloody git, calling him 'Dark Lord'," Ron murmured, closing his hands into tight fists angrily._

"_Ronald, will you be quiet?" Hermione hissed at him._

_He harrumphed unhappily but obliged._

"_I, myself, was branded a Death Eater merely to make up for my father's shortcomings. There's no doubt in my mind that I was going to die had Severus Snape not intervened and murdered Dumbledore in my stead. I was often deemed 'too soft' by Aunt Bellatrix and father, which is, quite frankly, the only thing they could agree upon. So, I was often submitted to the Cruciatus Curse, if something went wrong. Since I was the youngest, fault would often go to me. As you can now imagine, I was brought up to believe that being Pureblood was of the highest honor. That Mud—Muggleborns and Muggles were below us and to associate or even procreate with them was an abomination. Being filthy rich didn't help matters nor the fact that everybody always bent to my father's will. I was told that I would be just like my father, and for a few years I was _**_actually _**_proud of it!" he bellowed, rattling his hands violently in their restraints. "Needless to say, I became rather disenchanted by the end. I denounce and blame him. I'm not altogether innocent, but there isn't as much blood on my hands as there is on his. What kind of parent turns their back on their only son? He just as good left me to die when he turned me over to the Dark Lord. I never want to see him again as long as I should live."_

_The court became deathly quiet, undoubtedly appalled at his words. Hermione's chest tightened with disgust and dismay, unable to believe that the Malfoys would put their only son through such ordeal._

"_I mean, it was always obvious that he inherited his gross prejudice from his parents. But they instilled and encouraged that very trait in him. How sad," Hermione muttered to her friends._

_Ron looked outraged, gaping at her while Harry remained quiet._

"_Are you serious, Hermione? Are you really excusing him for the bloody torture he put us through in school?"_

"_I'm not, Ron. But it's certainly easier to understand now. Inversely, it's like your dad loves Muggles and as a result you don't have a problem with them. Don't be too harsh," she sighed wearily, not wanting to get into an argument with him._

_Ron shook his head stubbornly but said nothing._

"_Mr. Malfoy, after hearing your side and two written testimonies, __we've come to a unanimous agreement. We proclaim you innocent, so you will be free to go. Word of advice, Mr. Malfoy… we suggest you keep out of the public eye for a while," the Kingsley spoke sternly although not unkindly._

_The restraints suddenly disappeared and Malfoy stared at his hands in surprise, flexing them as he looked up at the council._

"_Wiser advice has not fallen on more appreciative ears. Thank you," he spoke slowly._

_The courtroom slowly started emptying, wizards and witches speaking amongst each other. But the trio remained in their seat, as did Malfoy. Harry was still avoiding eye contact while Ron slouched, arms crossed. Hermione couldn't help but stare at Malfoy, who looked so sullen and lost. He finally let out a deep sigh and stood up tiredly, making sure to avoid looking at them._

_Hermione stood up abruptly, watching him raptly._

"_Let's go," she murmured and the boys followed her reluctantly._

"_You're not actually planning on talking to him, are you Hermione?" Ron asked incredulously._

_Hermione walked faster, her stride no match for Malfoy's long legs._

"_Hermione, no way… you're mental," Ron hissed, catching up to her and grabbing her arm. "In case you haven't forgotten, his aunt was the one who tortured you and he was the one who did nothing to prevent Harry from practically being sacrificed back at their manor!"_

_Hermione let out a frustrated sigh as she struggled to free her arm from Ron's death grip._

"_Ron, Ron, please…" she whispered, looking into his blue eyes and hoping he'd see reason._

"_I'm sorry, Hermione… no. Just… no," he shook his head vehemently, pulling her to him and wrapping his arms tightly around her._

_She froze, at a loss for what to do. Sure, she was his girlfriend but she wanted so desperately to say something comforting to Malfoy. He was about to reach the door when he paused, causing Hermione's heart to jump to her throat. He glanced at Harry and Ron first before finally settling his exhausted gaze on her. She wanted to communicate some sort of consolatory congratulations to him but he looked away just a quickly and exited silently._

_She swallowed thickly, wrapping her arms around Ron's body and buried her face in his chest, making herself push any thoughts of Draco Malfoy away._

_It was over, it was finally all over._

(end flashback)

"Maybe I should tell Harry and Ron…" she mused out loud.

She dug the galleon she had bewitched back in their fifth year with the Protean Charm and sent a quick message to Harry.

_Hey Hermione._

_Are you busy?_

_No, what's up?_

_Can you ask Ron to meet you at your place? Say in… 10 minutes?_

_Sure thing._

_I'll be arriving via Floo._

_See you then._

Hermione went into her room to take her socks off, slipping her feet into trainers instead. She grabbed a hoodie, slipped it over her head and grabbed her wand. She Banished the flames with a quick flick of her wand; now the fireplace looked immaculate, as if there hadn't been a toasty fire burning just seconds before. She tucked her wand safely into the large front pocket of her hoodie and grabbed a pinch of the glittering emerald powder from the flowerpot. Bright green flames appeared and she felt the gentle breeze fan across her face.

She stepped into her fireplace and spoke clearly.

"Harry Potter, Godric's Hollow."

She closed her eyes as she felt herself getting sucked in to what she felt was a vortex. Before she knew it, she was standing in Harry's fireplace and hopped out. She brushed the soot off her hoodie and straightened up, looking at a grinning Harry Potter.

"Always so prim and proper… even in sweatpants and trainers," he snickered.

She let out a sigh and rolled her eyes but still gave her best friend a hug.

"How are you, Hermione? Sounded urgent."

"Has Ron arrived yet?"

Harry rolled his eyes and fell into his comfy couch.

"You know him, late for everything. If it wasn't for you, I'd swear he'd be running around like a chicken with its head cut off."

She frowned at him but couldn't help but giggle at the imagery.

At that moment, the fireplace gave a mighty lurch and out came Ron, crashing into Hermione and causing them to fall on Harry.

"Ooh, what is this I've walked in on? Looks saucy. Mind if I join?" Ginny said, appearing next.

Hermione heard Harry groan and struggled to lift her body off of his.

"Ronald… get off of me! We're crushing Harry! Ginny, help your brother get off!" she muttered, face squashed against the back of the couch.

"This is too much fun, though. It's like watching a bumbling group of—"

"Ginevra!" she huffed. "Can't breathe, it's not funny!"

Hermione finally felt Ron's weight lifted off of her and she took a deep gulp of air, pushing herself off of Harry.

"Harry, I'm so sorry!" she sighed, turning to give glare daggers at Ron but helping Harry stand up.

"It's fine, Hermione, don't worry about it. I've had worse experiences. Besides, maybe if Ron and Ginny hadn't arrived…" he winked, trailing off playfully.

Ginny just laughed while Ron glared at Harry, evidently not amused. He wrapped his arms around her protectively and planted a kiss on her lips, as if to prove his bond with Hermione. Seconds later, Hermione finally managed to pull away, face bright pink while Harry merely watched them delightedly.

"Hermione, what was _so_ urgent that you pulled me out of a game of chess with _Percy_?" Ron asked, half exasperatedly and half curious.

She'd finished kissing Ginny's cheek and paused, turning to look at her friends slowly.

"I saw… Malfoy."

"What?!"

"Where?!"

"That git, did he say anything to you?"

"Calm down, calm down… it had started to rain and I was close to Flourish and Blott's, so I went in to avoid getting soaked any further. I went to the second floor to avoid getting mauled for autographs and pictures when I hear someone whisper my name. I look around but see nobody and conclude that it was my imagination. But I'm putting a book back and I see a pair of grey eyes staring at me, so I take a peek… and sure enough, it was Malfoy himself," she recounted as they watched and listened to her in rapt attention.

"How… was he?" Harry asked quietly.

"He looked better than last time we saw him…" Hermione trailed off. "He told me that the years have been kind to me."

"He what?!" Ginny gasped, pressing her fingertips against her lower lip.

"I know, I couldn't believe it either. I was half-expecting him to dole out an insult at me but… nothing. He was nothing if civil, polite even. It was the most bizarre thing ever."

"What was he doing in Flourish and Blott's, though? Couldn't have been up to good," Ron spoke distrustfully.

Hermione clicked her tongue at Ron and shook her head.

"He must have been looking for background information, I suppose. He told me he was starting a job soon, so it must have been for that."

"Where?"

"Honestly, for Merlin's sake… I don't know, Ronald. But he looked… recovered," she said thoughtfully.

"As recovered as someone who went through that experience can be," Harry muttered, rubbing his chin.

"Mate, you of all people should hate him! All the bollocks he put us through…"

"_Ronald_," Hermione warned, narrowing her eyes at him.

"I'm serious! Why don't you lot see him for what he really is? I just don't understand it."

"I understand why you feel like that, Ron, I really do. But you need to keep in mind that the feud between your dad and his never helped make things easier between the two of you. His arrogance and your stubbornness only made things worse throughout the years," Hermione said logically but also wanting to pacify him.

"_My _stubbornness?" he snorted, crossing his arms protectively against his chest.

Hermione, Ginny and Harry traded looks with each other before turning to him and he had the nerve to look defiant though there was an abashed flush on his freckled face.

"Yeah, well, I reckon my _stubbornness_ isn't nearly as bad as Malfoy's arrogance," Ron muttered darkly. "But it's not only his arrogance! It's his pride, the way he treated the people he didn't like, the way he thought himself above everybody—"

"Alright, Ron, you're right," Ginny interjected.

Hermione gave her a look of appreciation before pressing her hand on his shoulder.

_Thank Merlin. He could have gone on and on about Malfoy. He may be many things but I'm not sure it's any worse than Ron's tenacity. Best not let him know because he'd take that personally._

Harry changed the topic to Quidditch, much to Hermione's chagrin. Hours later, their conversation of Draco Malfoy was long forgotten.

* * *

Thank you for reading! :)


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I continue to own nothing. Sad day.

* * *

Draco stared at himself in the full-length mirror, turning every which way. For the first time in a long while, it wasn't an act out of narcissism but out of pure uneasiness. He kept smoothing down the front of his ever pristine robes and looked for any specks of crud on his flawlessly polished black shoes.

He let out a tense breath and shook his head at himself, well aware that he was being ridiculous.

"I look fine… I need to stop behaving like a bloody woman," he murmured, unable to resist giving one last look in the mirror before turning away.

As a matter of fact, Draco looked better than merely 'fine.' He'd gained all the weight he'd lost and in an effort to vent his frustrations, started exercising. His body was lean, toned with the right amount of musculature. His dark (if not black) clothes never failed to emphasize the blond of his hair, which was always perfectly styled with a side part and swooped to the side; although now he skipped all the muck he used back in Hogwarts that kept it slicked in place. He wore a black button down shirt and black trousers under his black robes. While other people looked morbid sporting all black, on him, it looked fairly elegant. More than that, it made him look aristocratic, which was further enhanced by his graceful movements.

He felt the palms of his hands start to get clammy once more and resisted the urge to wash them, choosing to look at his watch instead.

"Better go early to impress the boss," he murmured to himself, picking up his black dragon hide suitcase.

He picked up his wand and Apparated just outside the entrance of the Ministry of Magic. He took a deep breath and stepped into the seemingly innocuous phone booth and stated his name and office and was immediately slid to the Ministry itself. The doors opened automatically and Draco straightened the lapels of his robe nervously, glancing around before stepping out, following the line of witches and wizards who were waiting to get into their respective lifts.

He finally arrived to the fourth level of the Ministry, which was the department he'd gotten hired into. He looked around apprehensively, desperately wanting to disappear into thin air. Of course, to the outside world he looked as haughty as ever but they certainly didn't know what went on in his head, did they?

_Damn! Maybe I **should** have taken the invisibility cloak Mother had offered me…_

"Draco! So good to see you," rumbled the voice of Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt.

He almost jumped out of his glossy oxfords as Shacklebolt made his way to him, causing even more unwanted attention to be drawn to him.

"You're better than punctual, son," he laughed heartily, clapping Draco on the back and almost causing him to tip over.

"Didn't want to be late on my first day…" he mumbled, holding tightly onto his briefcase.

Shacklebolt smiled genuinely at the young Malfoy, causing him to become even more flustered.

"Dumbledore always saw something good in you."

Draco felt his cheeks tinge pink but managed to give the Minister what could have passed for a small smile.

"About your office—"

"Kingsley! Good morning, sir! I just need your signature so I can get bloody Alistair off my back. He keeps _nagging_—" the one and only Hermione Granger rambled, stopping dead when she saw Draco standing next to the Minister.

She gave the Minister a polite, if questioning look before turning to give Draco an uncertain smile that didn't quite reach her eyes; Draco could see all the questions she had swirling in their dark depths.

"Erm… sir, what's going on?"

"I hired Mr. Malfoy to be your newest assistant. I'm going to need you to show him around the department and then to show him the way to his office."

Hermione's mouth dropped open in shock as she stared at the Minister. Had Draco been any less nervous, he would have laughed at how comical she looked. But as it was, he was rather stunned to hear that none other than Hermione Granger would be his boss.

Shacklebolt watched Hermione patiently as she gathered her wits and closed her mouth, giving Draco a tight-lipped smile. She cleared her throat and shifted the envelope she held between her hands.

"It would be a pleasure, sir," she nodded, motioning for Draco to follow her.

"Miss Granger…"

"Yes, sir?" she turned around suddenly (_almost eagerly_, thought Draco), practically walking into him, who was at her heels.

"The papers that need signing?" he asked patiently, seeming to find it amusing judging by the smile that lurked on his mouth.

Her face turned a bright pink as she handed the Minister the envelope quietly. He nodded and wished them a good say before turning away.

"Where to start…" she mused, looking around as if she were lost.

Draco watched her, feeling quite entertained as she mumbled to herself. He took this opportunity to get a good look at her and almost wished he hadn't. She wasn't donning robes, but rather Muggle work clothes. She was wearing a tight, black knee-length skirt, matching fitted coat and underneath that a simple blouse with three gold (currently unbuttoned) buttons at the top. He observed that she had a dainty necklace strung around her neck and found that it fit her quite well; she also wore simple gold studs in her ears. Her chestnut hair was in loose waves that reached her lower back, no longer bushy or unruly but rather sleek and chic. He forced himself to look down and saw that she was wearing black, shiny pointy heels.

_My, my… Ms. Granger is looking rather delectable. All she needs is a pair of glasses and she could very well pass off as a very sexy librarian…_

He froze, taken aback by the direction of his thoughts.

"Okay, so we're going to start over here with Collins…"

An excruciating half an hour later, they finally came to a stop.

"Okay, that's about everybody that you need to know," she told him, motioning for him to follow her once again.

Draco sighed gratefully, there were only so many more inquisitive stares and uncertain smiles that he could stand.

_Especially before my morning coffee._

She opened the door to an office and he walked in, murmuring 'thanks' to her.

"This is going to be your office. It's directly connected to mine through that door," she said, closing the door behind her and pointing.

"This is mine? It's pretty big," he observed, looking around the spacious room.

She chuckled faintly, finding seeming to find something in his expression humorous.

"Look, Malfoy… I'm sorry about the stares and murmurs. I'll do my best to ensure that everybody treats you fairly. I'm sure many think that it's your name that got you this job, but I know Kingsley to be one of the most unbiased and fair wizards. He wouldn't care if you were homeless or deaf as long as he'd be sure that you're right for the job," she spoke firmly but kindly to him.

He stilled at the tone of her voice, feeling an unexpected surge of relief at her words.

"I know we never particularly got along in school, but I know you're a different person now. I'd like to think so, at least. So, whatever prejudices you may or may not hold against me still, could you please not let them interfere? I'm your boss and while I don't like pulling the 'I'm your superior' card, I'm going to ask you to respect my decisions. I will, of course, ask for your input but once my final decision has been made, there will be no swaying me. I like preciseness. I thrive on order. I appreciate efficiency, loyalty and honesty. But I won't stand for brainless mistakes nor will I repeat myself multiple number of times. You got it?" she spoke, crossing her arms and looking at him authoritatively.

Draco felt his mouth hang open slightly but had the sense to close it before he had a chance to make a fool of himself.

"Absolutely, Granger. I want to thank you for this opportunity…"

"No, stop. This wasn't up to me. But had I gotten a say in it, I would have approved. Mostly because I believe in second chances and that you aren't as vile as you made us believe," she spoke, letting herself smile.

Draco couldn't help and smile back but shook his head slightly.

"I was every bit monstrous as you think I was. But I have turned a new leaf, as the Muggle saying goes. I wouldn't dare destroy this perfect opportunity of getting my life together once again and proving that I am worthier than people believe me to be. It's all I ever wanted. It's all I've been waiting for."

Hermione watched him impassively, nodding her head in agreement.

"Well, if it means anything, Malfoy, I believe in you," she told him sincerely. "It may sound strange, especially coming from _me_, but I'm proud of you. Proud of you for taking the first step to become the person you want to become instead of going back into the old ways."

"Well, isn't that sweet?" drawled a voice.

Draco and Hermione turned to it, finding a scowling Ron Weasley leaning against the adjoining doorway that lead to her office.

"Ron! For how long have you been standing there?" she asked, sounding embarrassed.

"Long enough," he muttered before striding to Hermione and pulling her into a kiss.

Draco sighed heavily and rolled his eyes, sitting himself at the edge of his new desk, only feet away from them.

"For Merlin's sake… get a room, would you? I'd hate for my breakfast to make a re-appearance," Draco spoke coldly, sounding more like his younger self.

Hermione finally managed to extricate herself from Ron, her face a bright shade of magenta.

"Erm, sorry about that Malfoy, Ron can be a little hard to dissuade sometimes," she mumbled, giving Ron a glare.

But Ron just smiled at her, pulling her tightly to his side.

"Weasley, please. This is no place to assert your dominance," Draco told him coolly. "I don't want anything to do with Granger, nor have I ever wanted to. I'm merely putting up with her because she's my boss and if she's not happy with my _assisting_, she will undoubtedly can me."

A strange mix of emotions passed through Hermione's chocolate brown eyes, a slight crease in her forehead as he spoke. Even so, Draco tried his best to not look at her because he was scared that she would see right through his words. Ron just continued to smile although the expression anything but friendly or happy.

"Brilliant. Anyway, I'll be off now. See you later, _darling_," he said, pulling her to him once more and kissing her loudly.

Draco stood up and gave them their back, rolling his eyes so hard they were at risk to stay stuck permanently at the back of his skull.

"Goodbye, ferret."

"As always a pleasure, Weasley," Draco drawled, raising his hand to wave.

He turned around and expected Hermione to have left with him but to his surprise was still standing there, staring intently at him. She frowned slightly and bit her lip, an act that made Draco want to stroke her rosebud of a lower lip.

_What in the… thoughts like that are worse than useless. As if it weren't bad enough, she's my boss now… and completely out of my league. Hmm… isn't that funny? Oh, yes, incredibly hilarious, Malfoy. Irony, you are a stern mistress._

"Yes, Granger?"

At the sound of his voice, she snapped out of her reverie, causing her to blush and look down.

"You need anything, I'm in my office," she said, walking away.

"Yes, boss lady."

"And Malfoy… good use of Muggle expressions," she said, giving him a strange little smile that caused his stomach to wobble strangely.

He swallowed thickly as she stepped into her office, turning to look at him one last time before leaving their adjoining door halfway opened.

Draco closed his eyes and let out a deep breath, hunching his shoulders slightly.

_Stop it, you sod, that will not do. You're at work now and you can't afford any distractions… no matter how delicious they may seem. You heard her, she takes her job seriously and won't stand for any buffoonery… not that I was planning on screwing up. I was dead serious when I told her just how much this job means to me._

Draco inhaled deeply and pushed himself off the edge of the desk and strode to his chair, sitting down comfortably. The desk was bare but nothing a few knickknacks from his apartment (that he'd accumulated on his travels through the years) couldn't fix.

_I have that picture of Mother that I love so much. I wonder how she's doing… I know she's used to being separated from fath— Lucius, but this is an entirely different matter. I must write to her soon. Perhaps I could even go visit her on a day off. Lunch and shopping, just like old times._

A corner of Draco's mouth lifted at the memory of his last shopping excursion with his Mother. He looked down at the shiny wood of the desk and saw his reflection staring back at him.

_I may look like him, but I've certainly inherited Mother's fussiness over particular garments._

He chuckled softly and indulged in another memory before straightening his back and shuffling through the papers that just landed on his desk.

* * *

Thanks for taking the time to read! As always, I appreciate the review(s) along with following and/or putting the story as one of your favorites. :)


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks for the reviews and following the story. :)

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

Months passed with little to no consequences, much to Hermione's relief and Ron's annoyance. Still, she couldn't help the shiver that ran through her body every time a certain somebody's grey eyes lingered on her or the way her heartbeat sped up when their fingers or arms brushed by accident. Hermione could help the guilt she was plagued by afterwards even less, scolding and muttering to herself to get back to work.

Hermione wasn't completely surprised to discover Draco was every bit the gentleman that a vast amount of money tends to breed (although a part of her couldn't help but wonder where _this_ Draco had been back when he used to taunt her in school). He was constantly refilling her mug with the green tea that she brewed throughout the day; she avoided coffee as much as she could because she found that it made her edgy and she loathed how jittery it made her. He would often remind her to go to lunch when she got lost in paperwork and would tell her to go home at the end of the workday.

All in all, Hermione could find nothing to complain about the former bane of her existence.

"Hermione, I seriously don't understand why you keep him around," Ron said one Friday morning, rolling his eyes.

"He's very diligent and you _know_ how I appreciate that. Besides, I have zero complaints about his work ethic," she told him a tad defensively.

Ron watched her skeptically, toying with the cuff of his robes.

"If you say so," he shrugged, nettling Hermione slightly.

"Ron, we may love each other but that doesn't mean we have to see everything eye to eye. I suppose it's what drew me to you," she told him, hoping to placate him. "You're so easygoing while I tend to take matters too seriously… you lighten me up."

He looked up at her and Hermione idly recalled how his bright blue eyes used to make her heart go pitter patter at the beginning of her relationship. She wasn't sure if it was because of his insensitive words but realized she felt nothing at the moment; that nothingness only managed to alarm her now.

_Uh-oh… what is this?_

She bit her lip and looked away, swallowing nervously.

"Thank you, Mione," he spoke softly, sincerely.

She chanced a glance at him and saw him smiling crookedly at her. That simple gesture made her heart slam into her chest; whether out of surprise or love, she wasn't sure. But she managed to feel relief nevertheless and so she smiled back at him.

"However, I don't think I'll be able to have dinner with you as planned. The department wants to go out for drinks after work and I'd really like to go with them. Not as their boss, but as their colleague. I want to get to know them better and show them I'm not always their insufferable, know-it-all boss… you understand, right?"

He let out a loud sigh and half shrugged.

"That's fine. Just be careful, alright? If you need anything, you know where I am, okay?"

She nodded, appreciative of his concern.

_I'm such a hag… how could I possibly doubt my love for him? I've wanted him to notice and love me in return ever since I can remember. I definitely don't deserve him… at times, anyway._

"Is… is the ferret going to be there?" he asked hesitantly.

"Probably not. He's not big on socializing," she told him with a shrug that she hoped illustrated indifference.

He brightened visibly and grinned at her.

"How about we have lunch instead?"

"That sounds good, Won-Won," Hermione teased, smiling affectionately at him.

He groaned softly and pooched his lower lip out.

"Please don't call me that, Hermione. I hated that nickname when she gave it to me and I hate it even more now," he sighed, shaking his head wearily.

Hermione snickered, rising from her chair and walked to his side.

"Aww, does Won-Won hate it? But it fits him so well!" she cooed, leaning down to be at eye level with him.

He couldn't help but laugh and proceeded to wrap his arms around her, causing her to lose her balance and topple onto his lap. Ron smirked at her, wrapping his arms even tighter around her slender waist as Hermione felt her face heat up.

"Ron, stop… someone could walk—"

"Well, well… Granger, Weasley. What is this I've walked into?" drawled a familiar voice.

Hermione felt her face pale and she struggled to get up from Ron's lap, but he managed to hold on to her tightly.

"This isn't… this isn't what it looks like. _Ron_!" she hissed his name.

"Not that it's any of your business, really," Ron told him scathingly.

"Ouch, you sure put me in my place, Weasley," Draco laughed, clutching at his chest. "Anyway, just came to drop off these documents that arrived for you, Granger. Not sure why the owl came to me when it's clearly addressed to you. Will you be taking your lunch soon? We need to discuss what we're going to do with Collins about the new elf coalition group."

"Sorry, Malfoy… she promised she'd have lunch with me. Looks like it'll have to wait," Ron told him gleefully, sounding anything but sorry.

Malfoy gave him a saccharine smile and shrugged his shoulders.

"Doesn't bother me in the slightest, Weasley. Just reminding her, as she told me to do so," he responded briskly. "Well, you lovebirds have fun," he winked at them before sauntering back to his office, robes billowing around his ankles.

Hermione stared after him, feeling as though her heart dropped into her gut.

"What a git! I _really_ wish you didn't have him around you, Mione… something about him is just off."

"Ronald! What did I tell you? Nothing you say will make me change my mind about keeping him! He is good at his job and that type of person is hard to find nowadays. I don't care how much you pout, sulk or whine, I'm keeping Draco Malfoy and that's the end of that," she told him sternly, ripping herself from his arms. "Now, are we going to lunch or what? I'm starving."

He nodded meekly, standing up as Hermione fished around for her wand and purse.

"Let's go. I'm in the mood for sushi," she told him, leaving no room for argument.

Hermione looked at the watch that was strapped around her thin wrist and held back a sigh.

_Just ten more minutes… or maybe I should do it now, to avoid chickening out. Come on, Hermione… you helped defeat Voldemort. Surely you can pluck the courage to ask him to join you. Wait, not just me. The entire department. Yes, all of_**_us_**_._

She swallowed nervously and pushed herself off her chair, practically dragging her high heeled clad feet. She peeked at him from the doorframe, finding it admirable how his back never once touched the back of his chair. She herself hated her posture and blamed the bookbag that she used to cram with books to the brim back in school, inevitably causing her back to stoop slightly. He now appeared to be signing and stamping the document he had been reading, an action that Hermione found very professional.

"Erm… Malfoy?" she called out tentatively.

He jumped in his chair, causing her to smile. He whirled around and narrowed his icy eyes at her, making her heart leap into her throat.

_Cool down, Hermione… he's just looking at you._

"Yes, Granger? How may I be of assistance?" he asked attentively.

"A few of us of the department are going out for drinks to the newly refurbished Leaky Cauldron. Would you like… would you like to come?" she asked him softly, never looking away from his eyes.

A clouded emotion passed through his eyes, causing him to look away for a moment.

"I don't think your boyfriend would appreciate that very much," he spoke, voice equally gentle.

Hermione felt her feet walk over to him as if they had a brain of their own.

"He doesn't have to know."

He glanced up at her, eyes lighting with mischief and mouth pulled into a sexy smirk. Hermione's mouth dropped open slightly, feeling her face burn and they both looked away simultaneously.

"I'm sure it would only serve to cause a rift between the two of you should he find out about my attendance. He would – unquestioningly – hate me even more, though truthfully I'm past caring at this point. He may think whatever he pleases of me and nothing I say or do will change that. I don't, however, want him to mistrust you because of me," he told her quietly, unable to look at her.

Hermione felt her heart pound faster and dared to give herself the slightest of hope that he wasn't as indifferent as he looked.

"He has a gross prejudice against you, that's correct. But he needs to learn to trust me and my choices because how else could we function in the stable relationship we are in?" she asked rhetorically. "So, are you in or not?"

He tilted his head slightly, causing a pale tendril of hair to brush against his forehead as he contemplated her question. Hermione's fingers began to itch strangely, wanting to brush it back.

_What is the matter with you? This is Malfoy and there's no way he'd ever let you touch him. Although… is his hair as soft as it looks? Damn, stop it, Hermione._

"Come on, I'll buy you a drink. Or two. We can celebrate over what good team we've become in the last few months," she said, hoping to entice him.

"Twist my wand arm, why don't you," he joked wryly, standing up to gather his things.

With a quick glance at her watch, Hermione was startled to find that the ten minutes were halfway gone.

_How time flies when I'm with him! Even the workday itself seems to breeze on by…_

She too, went to gather her items, slipping her blazer back on and hiking her purse over her shoulder. She waited silently for him just outside his door.

"Shall we… shall we Apparate together?" she asked, feeling butterflies flutter in her stomach.

"Do you really think I would leave you hanging, _boss?_" he drawled, tucking his wand inside his robes.

She smirked and raised her brow.

"Not at all, Malfoy. Just don't want you to get lost. And you know how men can be about asking for directions," she told him cheekily, to which he chuckled.

"How do we go about this without making things awkward?" he asked, raising his pale brows.

She held her right arm aloft, one he stared at for a moment before gingerly taking a hold of it. Even so, Hermione could feel the damnable butterflies travel up her torso, chest and finally down her arm at his touch.

"Hold on tight, lest you want to get splinched," she warned.

But before Draco could reply, she turned on the spot, causing them to Disapparate out of his office and Apparate into the night.

They landed smoothly and Draco immediately let go of her arm but she found that she already missed the way his hand melded around her forearm. She sighed inwardly, feeling slightly ashamed of herself and walked into The Leaky Cauldron.

"It's certainly been a long while since I was last here," Draco murmured, looking up at the chandeliers that hung from the ceiling.

"Not bad, huh? And it's close to work. It makes it _the_ best après-work watering hole," she spoke giddily, taking a seat at the bar.

"I am certainly impressed," he nodded, looking out for the bartender.

"No, no bartender here. You just order want you want and it appears. Neat, huh?" she grinned, taking her blazer off and setting it on the back of her chair.

_Was it my imagination, or did his eyes just roam my neck and shoulders?_

"Yes, _neat_. How'd you know about that?"

"I read it in the Prophet."

"Oh."

"What's wrong?" she asked him curiously, noticing his drawn expression.

"I… stopped reading the Prophet long ago. Probably around the time… fath— _Lucius __first_ went to Azkaban," he whispered, looking suddenly exhausted. "And with even more reason after the war and my trial."

Hermione's lips parted as if she had something to say but no words came out.

_How does one even convey their sympathy without coming off as pitying? Better change the topic, then. Come on, Hermione… anything!_

"You look good. So order up, handsome," she told him, rapping her knuckles against the bar. "Firewhisky sour for me."

She saw his cheeks color from the corner of her eye, his attractive face set in a bewildered expression.

"Firewhisky on the rocks for me, please," he said uncertainly, watching raptly how Hermione's drink appeared before her.

She gripped the glass tightly, enjoying the cooling sensation it sent through her overly heated body. His appeared with a _pop_ before him and he hesitated in taking it, muttering 'thanks' and turned to look at Hermione.

"Cheers," she told him, holding her glass out.

"Cheers," he mumbled, clinking his glass against hers before taking a deep drink.

She watched him, feeling the warmth of the whisky spread through her veins.

Draco downed his drink and quickly ordered another as soon as their co-workers walked in through the door, Hermione noticed.

"You have nothing to be nervous about. I'm here," she told him reassuringly, patting his arm lightly.

His eyes lingered on her hand (making Hermione blush and remove it hastily) before slowly looking into her eyes.

"I'm not nervous. I'm only thirsty," he sneered. "It sure hits the spot, don't you agree?"

"Sure does," she mumbled, looking away before she'd get caught staring.

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Thanks for reading! Have a great weekend, everybody. :)


	5. Chapter 5

As always, thank you for continuing to follow and review, I truly appreciate it!

Disclaimer: I continue to own nothing. Except the plot, perhaps.

* * *

"Never pegged you for a Firewhisky type of woman, Granger," Draco commented, glancing over at her.

_Merlin, she looks so beautiful. While I prefer her hair down, she looks so approachable in that bloody bun; hairs sticking out an all. She resembles a kitten, with those baby hairs sticking out near her temples._

He smiled to himself as she watched him curiously, undoubtedly wondering what he's smiling about.

"Can't judge a book by its cover, Malfoy," she chuckled, elevating her brows slightly.

Draco felt his expression fall and gripped his glass tighter.

"But it's what I did all throughout my childhood and the majority of my teenage years. Bloody waste," he murmured, taking another drink.

_Maybe I should slow down, I haven't drank alcohol in ages and I'm with a woman… who happens to be taken by the world's biggest wanker. And while I wouldn't mind having a nice verbal spat with the weasel, I don't want to cause her any problems. _

Her expression softened and started to reach her hand out toward Draco's arm once more but stopped, drawing it back slowly. Even so, he could still feel the warmth of her body next to his.

_Could that be the first time she's touched me? Ah, no. But of course not… how could I possibly forget?_

"That was quite a punch you threw our third year, by the way. I've never quite been able to forget that," he chortled, ordering another firewhisky on the rocks.

Her face turned adorably crimson but she managed to give him wry smile.

"Ron said it was brilliant."

"He _would_ think so. I think out of you three, he hated me the most. Still does, I'm sure," he chuckled once more, shaking his head with nostalgia. "I tried my best to make you all equally miserable, though."

"Why? Why did you hate us so much?" she whispered, brows kneading together with uncertainty. "As far as I know, we never did anything to you."

At the tone of her voice, Draco turned to look at her. Her expression was distressed, verging on confused and when he got the urge to try to explain the workings of his convoluted young mind.

"Because you had what I desired most in the world!"

She frowned, lips freezing on the rim of her glass.

"I don't understand…"

He laughed humorlessly.

"I don't think you would."

She scowled suddenly, setting her glass down a little too loudly. Everybody from the department who was in attendance turned to look at her then at Draco a little suspiciously. She procured a smile and then waved her hand sheepishly.

"Wouldn't want to break a glass, now would I?" she joked nervously.

There was some laughter before everybody returned to their own conversations.

"Don't you dare patronize me, Malfoy!" she hissed, dropping her easy demeanor. "You sure did it more than enough back in school!"

He cringed, grimacing for a few seconds before letting out a sigh.

_Still, I can't deny the attraction I feel when she looks at me with fire in her eyes, a fire that takes me back to our school days._

"More than hate… it was jealousy. I desired to have parents as doting as Weasley's…" he trailed off, unable to look at Hermione. "I desired Potter's ability to make friends who would like me for _me_, not for my surname or riches. As for you… I desired your ability to be top in every class and to not care what anybody said about you; from my ridiculous surname to my bloody hair, I reviled it all. I wanted it so badly… and if I couldn't have it, then I'd loathe and bully anybody who _did._ It was petty and low, I know… but it's all I knew to do. It was what I was _taught_ to do."

_She probably thinks I'm the worst bastard right now. _

She was too quiet so he took a peek at her and felt his heart drop down to his gut. To Draco's immense surprise, her eyes were shining with unshed tears. He frowned and leaned closer to her.

"What's wrong, Granger?" he asked her urgently, shaking her shoulder gently.

And even with that small gesture, a delicious warm feeling managed to run through his body.

"It makes sense," she whispered, swallowing thickly.

"What does?" he asks, perplexed.

"It explains perfectly your attitude towards us. I'm sorry, Mal—_Draco. _I'm so sorry."

He blinked in confusion but felt something tug at his chest when she said his name; quite possibly for the first time. Soon she heaved a great sigh, fat tears rolling down her cheeks.

_Merlin… is this what heartbreak feels like? Watching someone you care about cry and not being able to do anything about it? I feel so… helpless._

She, however, wiped them away as soon as they appeared and gave him a mortified look.

"Sorry, didn't mean to make you uncomfortable…"

"No, no… it's okay. Certainly not the first time I've seen you cry," he told her quietly, taking a gulp of his drink.

(flashback)

_Draco had parted ways with Pansy Parkinson before the Yule Ball ended, having claimed that she didn't feel well after __he turned down her less than innocent invitation to continue the party in her bed_. He had been strutting along the Entrance Hall when he spotted none other than a beautified Hermione Granger, tossing her shoes away one by one and massaging her feet. He smirked, never one to miss an opportunity to ridicule her.

"_Well, hello Granger. Shoes too small for you?" he snickered. __"Or did that oaf Krum step on your toes one too many times?"_

_**Is that the best I can come up with? Come on now, Draco! You can do better than that! Hit her where it hurts most. She's obviously upset with either ol' Scarhead or the Weasel and since she's usually on the outs with the latter …**_

_She, however, didn't respond. Draco frowned, __not used to being ignored and shuffled closer to her, _curiosity taking over. He was taken aback when he noticed the tear tracks on her face and the way she was sniffling softly. He grimaced and leaned back, unsure of what to do in such situation.

"_I'm surprised you let Weasel get to you, Granger," he spoke, unable to control himself._

_She looked up at him then, dark eyes flashing with anger and resentment that only seemed to be intensified by her tears._

"_Oh, sod off, Malfoy!" she snarled. "__Like you genuinely_ give a damn about Granger the Mudblood!"

_Draco cringed and took a step back, surprised at her cursing __and couldn't even bring himself to come up with a proper taunt about her filthy mouth._

"_I don't, actually. But you look so pathetic that I can't even help myself," he sneered, continuing to feel as if he was doing it halfheartedly._

_She let out a loud huff but Draco couldn't help but notice the way the tears continued to trickle silently from her eyes._

_**I may not care, but it seems wrong, somehow. She's usually so full of fire and sass… it doesn't help that she looks beautiful. For someone like her, anyway.**_

"_He's probably just jealous. Weasel needs to learn to man up or learn how not to be a whiny little tosser," he said simply, __brushing off imaginary dust from his sleeve._

_She glared up at him but refrained from answering._

"_Well?" he asked impatiently._

"'_Well' __**what**__, Malfoy?" she snapped._

"_Aren't you going to thank me?" he gasped, dripping sarcasm._

"_I'm going to thank you by not punching you again," she murmured, reaching out to grab her shoes._

_Draco chuckled despite himself, feeling __inexplicably_ proud of Granger.

"_That's just your m__isplaced anger talking. I think it's Weasley you want to punch, not me. I'm much too good-looking," he said pompously, __smirking._

_She snorted, rolling her eyes._

"_Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night, Malfoy."_

_She stood and they observed each other silently for a few moments._

"_You should definitely stop crying. Adding red and puffy eyes on top of your less than stellar looks won't increase your chances of getting another date."_

"_And he's back. Thank goodness, you had me genuinely terrified for a moment there," she mumbled derisively, __wiping the tears from her face._

_She watched him for a few more seconds and started to turn around to go up the stairs when Draco called her._

"_What do you want __**now**__, Malfoy? I'm exhausted and I want to go to bed…"_

"_You look good. You know, for being you," he told her, giving her the briefest of smiles before turning on his heel and sauntering away._

_**Keep cool, Draco, you lady-killer. She's probably swooning over you right in this moment.**_

_But instead, Hermione watched him go with a funny little smile on her face, wondering just what the heck had happened to Draco Malfoy that caused him to be nice to her. Well, nice for someone like him, anyway._

(end flashback)

Draco shook himself out of his reverie and turned to look at Hermione, who in turn was watching him. She looked down at her glass immediately, swirling around the amber liquid that remained.

"The first time you called me 'Mudblood' was the worst. You attacked the very thing I couldn't control about myself… that's why your later taunts about my looks didn't completely faze me."

Draco swallowed thickly as red-hot shame burned through his veins.

"You attacked me first," he muttered, brushing his fingertip along the rim of the glass.

"I did _what_? I think you've lost your marbles, Malfoy," she scoffed, shaking her head.

"You did! Not my fault you don't want to remember, Granger. You'd said something about how the Gryffindor's made the quidditch team on pure talent, unlike me, who, if memory serves, 'had to buy his way in'," he said, frowning at the innocent glass before him.

"And you _didn't_?"

"Of course not! I caught the Snitch every single time! And since I always complained to father about you lot's flying skills, he decided to shut me up by buying us all brand new brooms," he mumbled, feeling his face burn with humiliation.

"I suppose that makes sense…" Hermione reasoned after a moment's silence.

"Never thought of that, did you? The Slytherin just _had_ to cheat his way into something he always loved," he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

"I'm sorry, alright? We all make mistakes," she told him timidly.

"Some of us make more mistakes than others. Some of those mistakes, in turn, became colossal fuck-ups," he sighed, ordering a shot.

"Malfoy… Draco. Maybe you should calm down with the liquor," she told him timidly.

"Like you care," he murmured under his breath.

"But I do care," she spoke softly.

"You… do?" he asked, hardly daring to believe it.

"Of course, you're my employee," she answered briskly, straightening her posture.

Draco rolled his eyes and downed the shot, grimacing as the liquid burned its way down his throat.

"But… we also survived the war. And something big like that brings people together. Even people who have nothing in common, like us."

"Big whoop," he mumbled.

"Truth is… I wanted to talk to you after your trial. But Ron wouldn't let me," she frowned. "He held me back... _literally_. I wanted to comfort you since you looked so lost in that terrifying chair and recounting such horrors…"

He swallowed thickly as the memory of that particularly nasty moment came back to him.

"But you paused before walking out and looked at Harry and Ron before looking at me. In that simple look, I wanted to convey as much relief as possible… but I'm not sure you got it since you left just as soon as you glanced at me," she sighed, ordering a shot for herself.

"I felt something alright… Weasley's annoyance, Potter's indifference and your… your… whatever it was," he told her, running his fingers with frustration through his hair.

"Surely you mean my worry over you," she corrected, sputtering after she downed the shot.

"Right, sure. Listen, you should never try your hand at drinking games, you'd be lousy at them," he snickered, enjoying how her face turned a bright pink.

She glared at him but didn't pay any attention to his unsolicited advice.

"Why can't I care for you?" she demanded, prodding Draco's shoulder roughly.

Well, roughly for her anyway. He raised his eyebrow elegantly at her and stared down at her finger before looking back at her.

"It doesn't make sense," he shrugged.

"Just because you don't understand _why_ it doesn't mean it can't make sense," she told him passionately, prodding his side this time.

Draco let out a short burst of laughter, wrapping his arms around himself and then straightening up, glaring at her.

"Bad! Bad Hermi-mione," he hiccuped, shaking his head drowsily.

She stared at him with disbelief.

"That's the first time you've called me by my name," she whispered, tentatively placing her hand on his shoulder.

"It's your name, isn't it?" he challenged, raising a fair brow.

She laughed softly and squeezed his shoulder gently before placing her hands in a safe place away from him.

_Is it me… or does my shoulder feel a bit warmer from her touch? It's probably the alcohol._

"Sure is, _Draco_."

"Merlin, what a ridiculous name," he scoffed. "Of all the names to choose for your firstborn son, you think 'Hmm… Draco Lucius Malfoy. Nope, doesn't sound ridiculous at all nor will it warrant any taunting or mental scarring.'"

Hermione giggled softly, obviously enjoying something unknown to him.

"What's so funny?" he demanded.

"You are."

"Oh, yeah… I'm a riot. Just as hilarious as you caring about me."

"I _do_ care about you, Draco. Have you been so neglected that you don't believe when someone tells you that?" she whispered worriedly, leaning closer to him.

"You have no good reason to. Weasley would undoubtedly hate it…"

She looked down uncomfortably as Draco caught on.

"Wait a moment… he _doesn't know._ Weasley doesn't bloody know. This is too precious," he sneered. "I wonder how the mighty Weasley will react when he finds out his girlfriend cares for another bloke!"

"Oh, don't flatter yourself, Malfoy! I don't care for you _that way_ at all! As a matter of fact, I could compare this to taking in a stray and caring for it!" she snapped.

He straightened up to his full height and glared fiercely at Hermione, hearing his heartbeat pounding away in his ears.

"I'm hardly a bloody cat," he hissed, standing up and snatching his things. "Thanks for the free drinks, _boss_."

* * *

Thanks for reading! Have a wonderful day. :)


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I own nothing. It all belongs to the wonderful JK Rowling. :)

* * *

Ron traipsed along Diagon Alley, peering down at the list his mum had given him. He could almost hear her voice in his head, urging him not to forget a single thing. He rolled his eyes when something out of the corner of his eye caught his interest. There was a group of boys huddled around the front window of Quality Quidditch Supplies, talking excitedly amongst themselves. Curiosity piqued, Ron crossed the street and felt his jaw drop as he stared at what they were all gawking at.

"It's the Lightning Bolt X!"

"I've never seen anything more beautiful in my entire life!"

"It's the latest and greatest, from the makers of the Firebolt."

"Yeah, but the Lightning Bolt X obviously outstrips the Firebolt!"

"Did you know they named it in honor of Harry Potter's scar?"

"Yeah, isn't it wicked? Harry Potter's _so_ cool!"

Ron frowned at the boys, resisting the urge to scold them.

_If they'd just turn around they'd see Harry bleeding Potter's best friend standing behind them. Bloody kids..._

Despite his less than pleasant thoughts, he continued listening to them still.

"Have you read about all the charms it has installed? No? Well, it has a built-in Impervius charm so that the weather won't affect you, no matter if it's thundering or hailing…"

His resentfulness long forgotten, Ron could almost feel himself drooling over the beautiful broomstick. It was beautiful indeed. The handle was made of the finest polished marble (and it too, was charmed so one would never lose their grip) and the twigs were made of handsome dark maple.

_A broomstick like that would certainly be costly. I'd probably have to save for a few months if I wanted one… which I don't. Not really. But it __**would**__ come in handy for work… maybe I could get Harry to buy one as well._

Ron was still staring dreamily at the object of everyone's yearning when someone bumped into him.

"Oops, sorry. Hey, Weasley! Fancy meeting you here!" cried the wizard.

Ron was startled out of his daydream and shook himself, turning to look at whoever addressed him.

"Hey, Collins! How are you? Heard about you lot's party last night. How'd it go?"

"'Party' would be an overstatement but it sure was fun. Granger makes us work hard, but she was more than happy to make up for it last night," he laughed.

Ron chuckled and nodded, knowing exactly how Hermione could be.

"How come you didn't go, Weasley?"

Ron frowned slightly and gave Collins a baffled smile.

"Well, firstly, I don't work in your department…"

"C'mon! You're the boss's other half! Surely she would have invited you?"

Ron started to feel cold dread travel throughout his body as he forced a smile at the wizard.

"She didn't, not really. She said she wanted to bond with the department to show that she knows how to have fun too," he said, reciting her words.

Collins raised his brows with surprise.

"Far as I know, she didn't really do any rounds. She remained seated at the bar until she left."

"Oh? Was she sitting alone?" he asked hoping he sounded casual as he gripped his hands behind him anxiously.

"No, she spent time talking to Malfoy," Collins said, dropping his voice to a whisper.

Ron froze, his heart beating desperately as if he was teetering between the ledge of life and death.

"Did they… look very friendly?" he asked, trying to keep his voice even.

Collins frowned pensively, tilting his head slightly.

"Not really but I got the impression that it was only them in their own little bubble," he shrugged. "They seemed oblivious to the world around them."

Ron gritted his teeth together, feeling white hot fury running through his veins.

_I knew it! I knew it! Why would she lie to me?_

Collins prattled on about something else but Ron couldn't bother listening. When the wizard bid him goodbye, Ron waved distractedly.

He felt numb, the list that his mum had given him now wrinkled as he stuffed it into in his pocket.

_Why? Could she… possibly… care for him? She always speaks so highly of him. 'Diligent this, efficient that.' Not to mention the compassionate look in her eyes when she does. Or the way she tries to push me away when he's around. No, it can't be. It's just my mind playing tricks on me… but how?! It's clear as day. I need to act and act fast before I lose her. __I will_**_not_**_lose her and especially not to a ferret._

With that scathing thought in mind, Ron Disapparated from Diagon Alley and Apparated outside his childhood home.

_Mum's going to kill me for coming home empty-handed, but this is so much more important than some bloody spellbooks._

"Mum? Mum? You here?" he called, walking restlessly from the kitchen to the living room.

"Oh, Ron, you're back so soon! But…" she trailed off, looking at him sternly as she took notice of his empty hands.

"Mum, I'm going to need Great Aunt Muriel's ring," he told her gravely, stepping closer to her before she could chastise him.

She watched with him confusion as the words sunk in. Her eyes widened and she gasped loudly, covering her mouth with her hand.

"Ronald Bilius Weasley! Are you serious?" she asked, a glimmer of hope shining in her brown eyes.

Ron tried his best to work his mouth into a genuine smile and shrugged a shoulder.

"Dead serious, mum. I think it's past time I make an honest woman out of Hermione," he chuckled humorlessly.

Mrs. Weasley giggled uncharacteristically and wrapped her arms around her lanky son, tears of happiness leaking from her eyes.

"Oh, _Ronnie_! I'm so happy for you! How and when are you going to do it?" she cried, releasing him immediately.

Ron thought quickly as she motioned for him to follow her.

"I was thinking that we could all get together for supper. I could ask her then, in front of my family. Tomorrow. The faster I propose, the faster she's my wife," he said, smiling shrewdly.

"Oh, Ronnie! That would be perfect! I bet you she's going to love it! I'll definitely have to start on the dinner menu right now. Everything has to be perfect for my Ronnie!" she trilled as she searched for the ring.

Ron felt his anger abate when his mum handed him the velvet box. He opened the lid slowly, pulse quickening as he stared at the ring that would make Hermione unequivocally his. Nestled in the black silk was a gorgeous and antique platinum ring. In the center lay a hefty diamond, the shine undisturbed by the years. There seemed to be something engraved at the sides but he didn't pay further attention. Snapping the box shut, Ron looked at his mum, who was beaming at him with happiness.

"Mum, not a word to _anybody_, alright? I want this to be the best kept secret in the Weasley family, even if it's for a day, okay? I want this to come off as a complete surprise for Hermione," he breathed, holding onto the box tightly.

"Oh, anything you say, Ron! My lips are sealed, as the Muggles say!" she giggled once more as they made their way back downstairs.

"Thanks, mum…" he nodded appreciatively.

"Are you going to ask her before or after dinner?" Molly queried, peering up at her youngest son curiously.

"Er, I'm not really sure yet…"

"Well, you best think about it now!" she told him firmly, frowning at him.

"Don't worry, mum. I'll plan every single in detail," he smiled grimly at her.

"Oh, Ron. I don't know why it took you so long! It's been five years already. You're so lucky that she loves you and that she's a loyal woman. What if she had broken up with you or something? The horror!" she gasped, clutching at her chest.

Ron rolled his eyes at his overly dramatic mother.

"Mum, _please_. But yes… aren't I lucky that she's so loyal and loving?" he asked, letting his cynicism sweep over him. "Well, I better send her an owl now so she won't make any other plans…"

Mrs. Weasley kissed her son on each cheek and patted his head lovingly before disengaging himself from her. He sighed with relief, unsure of just how much longer he could keep this charade of happiness going. He all but ran to his room, shutting his door tightly behind him and searching for a quill and parchment.

_Might as well send one out to everybody. Let's see… Bill and Fleur, Percy, Angelina and George and Harry and Ginny. Charlie, of course. If I had any excuse to invite Malfoy, I would. I'd love nothing more than to see his pointy face as I ask Hermione to marry me. Hang on…_

Ron was about to dip his quill into his inkwell when a thought struck him.

"Why would Malfoy _even_ be interested in Hermione? He's always belittled her and called her names. Even he himself admitted to not wanting anything to do with her. Maybe I'm making a huge mistake…" he frowned, biting his lip.

The marriage idea suddenly wasn't starting to look so clever to Ron.

_Still, I can't forget the way Hermione's eyes flash with compassion for Malfoy when she mentions him. And the way that he always makes an excuse to interrupt us while we're together. I wouldn't put it past him simply being a pain in the arse... nope, I'm not willing to risk it. As the Muggles say, where there's smoke, there's fire. And I love Hermione, I really do. I was going to propose to her eventually anyway… I'm just saving us years of trouble and frustration. This is for the best. It has to be. I'm not going to let Malfoy beat me this time. Hermione is mine and mine alone. Weasleys don't share, especially not with Malfoys._

Ron frowned, running his fingers in frustration through his flaming red curls and tugged on them.

_But she as good betrayed me! Bloody hell, she lied to me about Malfoy not attending! Granted, I haven't seen her yet... would she even tell me that the prat went after all and that she spent the whole time by his side? Of course, now that she's got a Weasley she's got to mess around with a Malfoy? I can't believe that Hermione, __**my**__ Hermione would do this to me… nope, I'm doing the right thing. Once she's got this ring on her finger, she'll be all mine._

Ron sent off the letters with Pig, who had been flying around excitedly at being needed to do a job. He smiled grimly and shook himself, knowing he had to plan thoroughly so that everything went off without a hitch.

"Hermione Weasley… I like the sound of that," he murmured to himself, gripping the velvet box tightly in his hand.

* * *

Thanks for taking the time to read, everybody! I hope everybody has a happy hump day. ^_^


	7. Chapter 7

Hermione sat herself down in front of her mirror, idly running her fingers through her now smooth and shining tresses. Still, she could see the ghost of her bushy mane in her mind's eye. With a taut smile, she recalled the taunts and mocking she received over her hair.

"_Hey there, bushy!"_

"_Granger, have all the good grades your head gotten so big? Oh, wait, that's just your hair!_

She straightened her posture and shook her head, as if to dispel the unpleasant memories. Letting out a tense breath, she brushed her hair behind her shoulders, the soft strands reaching halfway down her back.

_I wonder why Ron asked me to go over to dinner. He was extremely adamant that I attend after I tried to explain that I needed to look over the newest Goblin liaison contract that I had Malfoy to revise for me. Of course, once I mentioned Malfoy was involved he turned even more obstinate. Could… could Ron be jealous of Malfoy? No, that's ridiculous. This is __**Ron **__I'm talking about. Ron knows I love him, no matter how swarmed with work I am. He should be more than aware of how dedicated I am to my job at this point in life, just as much as he is to his. Besides, he absolutely loathes Malfoy while Malfoy… is fairly indifferent to him. With the exception of when Ron's in my office, giving his best effort to annoy him. But Malfoy always stays cool as an ice cube, smirk in place. How does he do it? Back in Hogwarts, he'd take every single opportunity given to insult Ron but now…_

Hermione frowned and forced herself focus on the task of putting mascara on; she'd hate to gouge an eye out no thanks to her lack of concentration. She coated her light brown, naturally curled lashes with a light coat of mascara. She felt silly the way her mouth gaped when she did, but she came to love the ritual of putting on makeup. Not that she needed a lot, anyway. She preferred to let her skin breathe and usually only bothered with the whole works for special occasions. She dabbed a pink cream blush on her cheeks, blending it out methodically with her fingers so she wouldn't have bright pink spots on her cheeks.

_Oh, if only Lavender and Parvati could see me now. They were always urging me to borrow their makeup. Needless to say, they'd be proud of me._

Hermione has always considered herself as a person who liked to master anything and everything she set her mind to. That included the girly things she neglected to pay attention to back in Hogwarts, such as makeup and shopping. She had considered the makeup part to be simple enough; she spent most of her time in Muggle department stores. To be more specific, beauty counters. The amount of products that catered to make a woman look more beautiful both fascinated and puzzled her.

After all, Hermione spent most of her youth fighting her roommates, choosing to focus on her schoolwork instead and helping Harry fight Voldemort. She grew up being a tomboy and anything having to do with her two male best friends (who often arrived to their common room dripping in muck and sweat) didn't particularly bother her. But now Hermione was a grown woman and knew it was high time to learn all about beauty and to get over her aversion to it and any other "girly" things.

She added a bit of tinted lip balm to her lips and stood up, smoothing down her bright floral knee-length skirt and picking off a piece of lint from her cream split neck blouse.

Hermione grew to enjoy shopping (both for clothes and beauty items), often ordering dresses from Muggle catalogs as she took bubble baths. Not that she was able to do it often, but once in a blue moon she'd get all her work done up and would head home to relax in a bubble bath and a glass of wine. Of course, that is something she would never confess to anybody willingly.

Slipping her feet into a pair of nude flats, she twisted a front section of hair and pinned it back, pleased at her reflection. She daubed her favorite vanilla-scented perfume on her wrists and neck, setting down the bottle carefully on her vanity and returned to looking at herself once more.

"Who would have ever thought that know-it-all, bushy-haired Granger would ever turn out like this?" she whispered to herself.

_I'm sure I would have gotten teased less often. I might have had a boyfriend or two, even…_

"What does it matter now, anyway? I'm still the same ol' Hermione Granger… but with more appealing looks."

Her eyes glanced at the clock in her room and she whirled around with a gasp.

_Is that the time? I dawdled too much… better get my things and Apparate to Ron's house._

With a flick of her wand, Hermione concentrated on the three D's and soon found herself staring at The Burrow. Smiling fondly, she made her way down the trail (relieved that she'd forgone wearing heels) and raised her hand to knock on the door.

She could hear voices and scuffling going on in the inside of the house and she smiled amusedly as Ginny practically ripped the door opening, grinning widely at her friend.

"Hermione! What a pleasure to see you! Come in, come in… but I'm sure you know you don't need to knock," she scolded playfully, pressing a kiss on Hermione's cheek.

"I know, Gin… but it feels wrong somehow," she muttered, following her red-haired best friend across the living room and into the kitchen.

"How have you been? Ron's mentioned that work's been keeping you busy."

"Definitely, but now with Malfoy as my assistant, it honestly feels like the workload has lightened. Kingsley couldn't have found me a better person for the job," Hermione told her, gripping her purse tightly, somewhat nervously.

Ginny froze and turned around, frowning at her friend.

"Wait… _what?_ Malfoy works for you?" she asked with incredulity.

"He works _with_ me, Gin," Hermione corrected gently.

"So that's the job that he was researching when you ran into him?" Ginny asked, eyes narrowed with mild distrust.

"Well, now that you mention it… yes. He is very well-versed with the cases and petitions that have cropped up… and good at referencing old ones, why didn't I think of it before? And it makes sense, Malfoy _did_ have the best marks after me…" Hermione mused.

Ginny snorted and rolled her eyes, an action that reminded her of Ron.

"Hermione, has it occurred to you that Malfoy set himself up to work for you?"

This time it was Hermione who snorted.

"I think not. Besides, he has been perfectly polite with me, not once disrespecting me or my decisions."

"Are you really sure it's Malfoy? Maybe the body snatchers came for him…"

"Ginny, _really_. Ron is also incredibly set on thinking that Malfoy has a grand scheme tucked under his robes… you two must be related," Hermione smiled playfully, gently nudging her side.

"Some things are hard to forget, Hermione. I know he gave you a terrible time back in school…"

"Ginny, I know. But I'm a firm believer that people can change. Even people that were formerly malicious, cowardly—"

"Bullying, cold, pompous, narcissistic," Ginny interrupted loudly. "But I happen to trust your judgment, Hermione; if you say he's changed then I believe you. Still, if you ever need someone who knows a mean bat bogey hex…"

The redhead winked at her friend, causing Hermione to wrap her arm around Ginny's freckled shoulders.

"So who else is here?"

"Just about everybody," Ginny answered.

Hermione frowned, something that felt like suspicion form at the back of her head.

"Hermione, my goodness! It feels like I haven't seen you in ages, dearie!" Mrs. Weasley cried out, entering the kitchen at that precise moment.

"Mrs. Weasley!" Hermione cried as the woman took her into her arms in a tight hug.

They finally pull away, Hermione massaging her sides subtly.

"How are you?" the Weasley matriarch asked fondly, waving her wand at the oven.

"Good, busy with work as always," she answered, opting not to mention Malfoy.

"That's always good. Ron has been incredibly busy too, thank Merlin. Anyway, why don't you two go and head out back? Everybody's out there already. Dinner should be ready soon," she smiled with a twinkle in her eye.

She nodded wordlessly, the feeling at the back of her head growing bigger.

"Ginny, why is everybody here?" Hermione asked out of the corner of her lips.

"Just you wait," she chirped, a twinkle appearing in her eye as well.

_Uh-oh, this can't be good. Could they be scheming something? Why does everybody have to be here?_

She swallowed nervously as Ginny gave her a friendly shove in the back, causing Hermione to stumble into the backyard with everybody's eyes on her. She gave a little wave as she walked slowly toward the group, Percy and George rising from their seats to welcome her.

After having kissed them all on the cheek, Ron stood before her. She blinked at him, looking at him up and down. He wore a button down white shirt that had the sleeves rolled up along with grey slacks and grey plaid vest. On his feet were black shoes and Hermione couldn't quite help raising her eyebrow at him in questioning.

"Oh, just… y'know, feeling a bit fancy is all," he muttered, taking her into his arms for a hug.

She frowned as she wrapped her arms around him, feeling puzzled.

_But Ron absolutely __**abhors**__ getting dressed up. I practically have to dress him myself for special occasions…_

She froze in his arms as she started to realize what was going on. He pulled away and looked at her curiously but all she could do was smile numbly at him, clenching her jaw tightly.

"You look absolutely beautiful, Mione," he muttered, brushing a strand of hair away.

She felt herself relax as he cupped her face gently, his sparkling blue eyes peering earnestly into hers.

"I could say the same for you. You even got a haircut," she smiled, gently brushing the nape of his flame hair.

He chuckled as he stroked her cheek with his thumb.

"Well, you _had_ been telling me that I needed to get it cut," he reminded her.

"I know that. But since when do you ever listen to me?" she teased, loving the way the sun brought out the strawberry tones in his hair.

Ron grinned at her, causing her heart to thump faster.

_This is good, this is what I need… with Ron constantly on my back about Malfoy, I can't appreciate all the little quirks I love about him._

Someone behind her cleared his throat loudly, making Hermione laugh.

"Harry James Potter," she said, turning around.

He grinned at her, holding his arms out for a hug. She gladly hugged him and noticed that Mr. Weasley and Mrs. Weasley come out of the house, the former waving at her enthusiastically. She waved back as she pulled away from Harry and suddenly noticed that everybody was peering at her rather excitedly.

Ron took hold of her hand, giving it a firm squeeze, thus causing for Hermione's sense of dread grow once more.

"Hello everybody and thanks for coming here on such short notice," he said, smiling nervously at everybody. "I just wanted to take this time to stop and smell the roses, as the Muggles say."

Everybody chuckled at this, turning to look at their significant others.

"I don't think I tell Hermione enough that I love her. Or that I appreciate her, for that matter. She's an incredible woman, a woman that I have been lucky to call mine for years. She's smart, she's beautiful, she's moral… but best of all, she loves _me,_" Ron spoke, a tense edge to his voice as he turned to look at Hermione.

Hermione, who at this point was starting to feel the cold spread all throughout her body despite the delicious warm rays of the sun that fell upon.

"Hermione Granger…" Ron spoke, eyes blazing as he lowered himself on one knee, "I want to spend every minute of every day with you, for the rest of my life. I don't want anything to come between us and I certainly don't want there a chance to be. I want to love you, honor you, and respect you until we grow old and grey. So will you please do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

Hermione stood frozen, looking down into Ron's serious blue eyes, the sounds of cooing and happy shouts disappearing on her suddenly deaf ears. Ron gulped and she could see his Adam's apple bob jerkily as he gripped her hand a little tighter, the wrinkle between his brows getting deeper the longer she took to respond.

_Why am I stalling? I love Ron, this is what I've wanted ever since I was thirteen, is it not? So why do I feel like part of me wants to snatch my hand again and Disapparate out of here?_

The breeze ruffled Ron's flaming hair and in that moment, Hermione saw a much younger Ron; a Ron who was scared out of his wits but whose eyes still held the glimmer of hope that his love would be enough for her. She felt her heartbeat thunder in her ears as her heart started to unfreeze in her chest. Swallowing thickly, she gave his hand a squeeze as she let out a breath of air.

"Yes," she heard herself say.

And for one awful, confusing moment, Hermione could almost swear that she saw a haunting pair of grey eyes surveying her coolly instead of Ron's.

Just as soon as Hermione said yes, Ron leapt up and gathered her into his arms as cheers and whistles erupted around them. Hermione stared blankly at the sky, everything around her a blur. Ron finally pulled away, a euphoric grin taking over his face as he took out a small velvet box, opening it slowly. He took the ring and grabbed Hermione's hand, slowly slipping the ring onto her left ring finger.

"Ouch, Ron… wait. I think it's a bit too small," Hermione mumbled, a tiny crease forming between her brows as Ron jammed the ring on her finger.

"Ah, there we go now, perfect fit," he announced, showing off Hermione's hand.

She pressed her lips into a line, not wanting to complain.

_It really is a beautiful ring… I wonder who it belonged to. Doesn't matter now, I guess… it's mine now. Hermione Weasley. It has a… familiar sound._

Hermione looked up and watched how Ron's family attacked him in a hug, making her feel alone. She then felt somebody wrap their arm around her shoulder and she turned to see Harry giving her a kind smile.

"Everything's going to be okay, Hermione," he nodded, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze.

She felt her lips twitch up in response, a sense of reassurance flowing through her body.

_It's going to be okay… everything is going to be okay. It has to be._


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

Draco felt anxious as he watched his emerald green tie loop and knot by magic. He and Hermione hadn't parted on especially good terms and he was concerned how it would affect their relationship.

_Ha! What a sorry excuse of a relationship. An even better term would be 'awkward partnership.' That's not quite accurate, though. Despite our past… differences, we get along quite well. Who am I kidding? The only reason we didn't get along was because of me and my prejudices. All she was doing back then was defending herself against a cruel, bigoted arsehole. Can't hardly blame her for punching me, I honestly deserved that. But if I'm truly honest with myself… that is when I started seeing her in a different light. Nobody had ever dared lay a hand on me but she just didn't care! I couldn't help but feel a grudging respect toward her that slowly began to grow._

He suddenly chuckled, remembering her words before receiving the face socking of his life.

"_You foul, loathsome evil little cockroach!"_

_But now… I'd even dare say that Granger's not so bad to hang around. Of course, she has infuriating moments where I want to bang my head __**hard**__ against something. Other than that, it's almost… pleasant. Who would have thought that I'd reach a point where I could joke with Granger? The way her lips tremble, followed by a lip bite… before finally releasing that warm laughter of hers. It's rather… endearing, if I say so myself._

Draco's hand froze in midair, just as soon as he was about to comb his hair to the side.

_Merlin, did I just think that Granger is cute? I suppose she isn't hard on the eyes. She doesn't slap on the war paint as most women do and wears flattering clothes. Who would have thought that she had such a body underneath those itchy jumpers and robes? If only she didn't exhibit her questionable taste in men so flagrantly. Honestly, Weasley of all people. I'm sure she could do loads better than that. As a matter of fact, I wouldn't be embarrassed at being seen by her side. Maybe if there was a way I could change her mind… no, I don't want to resort to doing anything underhanded. All of that is in the past now. Besides, I don't want to give her a chance to doubt me. She may believe in second chances but all of that could crumble right before my eyes if I step out of line. I best continue working hard and charming her with my smiles. Even __**she**__ wouldn't be able to refuse the way I often catch her staring at me or the way her cheeks redden when caught._

He smiled genuinely at his reflection and slipped his pressed robes on carefully.

_Today's going to be a good day, I can feel it._

He quickly grabbed his briefcase and wand, Apparating to the Ministry and heading to his office. With a flick of his wand, he drew the curtains open, letting in the (fake) bright sunshine. He placed his briefcase on his desk, eyeing the small stack of owls waiting for him. He started to reach for the first one when a loud, squawking noise caught his attention. He frowned and turned to look at Hermione's office and heard the sound once more. He sighed but couldn't help the uneasy feeling in his gut despite previously thinking today would be a good day.

He sauntered to the door, opening it in a fluid motion as he watched the secretary grinning widely at Hermione. He cleared his throat and both of them turned to look at him. Draco noticed that Hermione must have been holding her hands up because she let them drop to her desk with a forceful thud.

"Good morning, ladies," he smiled suavely as he leaned against the door frame.

"M-Morning Mr. Malfoy," Olivia, their secretary, stammered.

"Olivia, could you be a dear and bring me today's Prophet, please? Oh, and a cup of coffee would be much appreciated. Actually, leave them in my office. Thank you," he spoke smoothly as he looked into her plain brown eyes.

She turned bright rhubarb and with a last smile at Hermione, walked away, closing the door behind her.

_Perfect._

"Granger, good morning."

She gave him a peculiar look as he swaggered towards her desk.

"Good morning, Malfoy. In high spirits, are we? You usually wait until you've had your third cup of coffee before coming in here," she said, giving him a playful smile.

_She's noticed! Well, of course she has, you dolt, don't flatter yourself... it's impossible to miss the frown that graces your face when you haven't. She sure doesn't miss a thing._

"But today is such a good day," he smiled, flopping elegantly into a chair.

She raised her eyebrows before looking away and mumbling something under her breath.

"Pardon?" he asked, straightening up as he looked at her inquisitively.

She looked at him for a moment too long before taking off her blazer and neatly hanging it off the back of her chair.

"Nothing, absolutely nothing at all," she said, giving her head a shake, causing her shining tresses to bounce. "Hmm… some habits are hard to lose, aren't they?"

He arched a pale eyebrow at her questioningly.

"Your Slytherin green tie, I mean."

He chuckled softly as he raised his nimble fingers to gently stroke the silk.

"I'm afraid you're completely right. Need to keep up my house pride," he smirked.

She smiled at him but suddenly, as though a thought had struck her, looked away from him.

"I've been seeing you wear green for ages, I really shouldn't be terribly surprised that the color grew on you," she commented, looking at his tie once more. "Besides, it looks good on you."

Draco felt his cheeks color slightly as she averted her gaze once more.

_Gain control of the situation, you tosser! Do it now before you come off as weak!_

"Yes, I've been told that quite often," he remarked lazily, smirking at her.

She pressed her lips together, giving him her best scathing look in a weak attempt to conceal the pink blush that tinged her cheeks.

"Well, aren't you humble?" she murmured, running a distracted hand through her sleek curls.

He laughed sincerely, closing his eyes for a moment and letting the sensation take over.

_Yes, feels so good to be happy, doesn't it? What's even more amazing is that it's brought on by her._

He opened his eyes and found her eyeing him rather curiously.

"You sound and look like Draco Malfoy, but you sure don't act like him," she said, resting her elbows on her desk and leaning forward, pressing her chin against the back of her hand.

Draco licked his lips and felt his face turn hot, unable to look away from her molten toffee stare.

"I told you, Granger… turned over a new leaf," he spoke softly.

She smiled at him, a real, warm smile that sent shivers up his spine.

"I'm truly glad, Malfoy," she nodded.

He felt the corners of his lips lift up in a smile, his heartbeat hammering away as they watched each other.

_Say something, anything! Quick, you prat!_

"So… erm…" he said, clearing his throat.

She jumped, shaking her head slightly as she clasped her hands together. In that action, something shiny in her left hand caught his attention and almost gasped when it clicked in his head what it was. She noticed what his eyes were fixed on and slowly looked down at her hand, cheeks ablaze.

"What… what is that?" he croaked.

"Well, it's… erm, it's a ring, you see. An engagement ring," she clarified quickly.

He looked up at her eyes, feeling all the blood drain from his face in horror.

"I'm engaged!" she cried, forcing a smile.

"Engaged?" he asked blankly.

"As in _to be married?_"

"Married?" he asked numbly.

"Yes, it's something that couples who love each other do," she says slowly, as if explaining to a child.

Draco swallowed heavily, body gone cold.

"So I guess Weasley finally manned up."

"It _was_ rather unexpected…" she trailed off, frowning slightly.

He could only nod, so he did.

_Retreat to your office, Malfoy. Now. You're fighting a lost battle._

He cleared his throat once more, jumping up on his feet.

"Well, there's plenty of work to do. I should get going now."

She nodded, unable to look at him and so he walked off, giving her a lingering look before doing so. He was about to go into his office when she finally turned to look at him.

"Malfoy, wait!"

He turned around a little too quickly for his taste, pressing his hand against the doorframe to steady himself.

"Yes?"

"Aren't you going to congratulate me?"

Draco's brow quirked.

"Congratulate you?"

"Well, yes…"

"I'm afraid I wouldn't entirely mean it," he told her quietly before turning around closing the door behind him.

He pressed his back against the door, leaning his head backward as he screwed his eyes tightly. He straightened up and let out a tense whoosh of air, gritting his teeth together before walking back to his desk. He eyed the coffee and newspaper, wanting nothing more than to sweep them off his desk but managed to contain himself.

_So much for fooling myself into thinking it would be a good day._

He took out his wand and pointed it at his coffee. Muttering a spell under his breath, he soon saw the spirals of heat coming off it. He smiled grimly, thinking that it was at least one thing going right for him. He turned to his stack of owls and looked at the senders. The last one caught his attention.

_Mother._

He practically ripped the envelope open and unfolded the letter quickly, eyes eager to see the words his mother had written for him.

_Dearest Draco,_

_I read in The Prophet that you started working at the Ministry under Hermione Granger. One would assume that an only son would tell his mother that, but no. I hope you've settled in well and that Miss Granger is treating you fairly. I don't really understand why you felt the need to get a job but no matter, I wholly support you.  
I went to visit your father last Saturday…_

His eyes skipped that portion; Draco found that he did not quite care how his father was doing.

_I'm sure you remember Daphne Greengrass, she was a schoolmate (and fellow Slytherin) of yours in Hogwarts. Her younger sister, Astoria, visited me last week. A young woman couldn't be any more charming, beautiful and witty if she tried! She asked about you, Draco and I sensed some interest on her part. Perhaps you could take her out? She's currently in Britain for business but she lives here in France…_

Draco sighed, rolling his eyes. But he did indeed remember Daphne and her younger sister. If memory served, Astoria had lustrous honey colored hair and intense green eyes. Of course, he couldn't forget those long legs that she was so fond of showing during Hogsmeade visits.

_Maybe it __**would**__ do me good to go out with her. Ah, I see that mother has included her address, should I wish to owl her. Wouldn't hurt to start dating, I suppose…_

His mother ended the letter by scolding him for not visiting her yet, but explained that she understood because he was probably busy with work. She hoped that he would visit on his next day off and Draco swore that he would in the letter he wrote back to her. After he signed his name, he hesitated as he reached for another piece of parchment.

_What do you have to lose? One dinner and you'll probably never see her again._

Draco dipped his quill into his blank ink, pondering what he could tell her.

_Dear Miss Greengrass,_

_My Mother has informed that you bestowed a visit upon her this past weekend. She was very delighted to have company and for that I must thank you. I must confess I haven't been a very good son due since I've yet to visit her. I recently started a job with the Ministry and that has kept me up to my elbows with paperwork. I would, however, like to thank you by taking you out to dinner. Mother mentioned how you were currently in town and I'd love to nothing more than to dine with you. How does Saturday, 8pm sound? I know an exquisite little French restaurant that will positively change your life. It's called Chez Magic-fique. I'll be the handsome blond man dressed in black. Looking forward to seeing you after so many years._

_Most sincerely,  
Draco Malfoy_

He inspected his elegant script and smirked with pleasure.

_If this doesn't sweep her off her feet, I don't know what will._

He folded it neatly and placed it in an envelope. He stood up, striding to his door and poking his head out.

"Olivia, could you please owl these two letters out for me? Thank you very much," he smiled, winking at her.

He closed his door shut and sauntered back to his desk, smirking. He soon heard a scream of happiness and his eyes went to the door between his and Hermione's office, causing his smile to falter.

_She must have showed the ring off to another desperate female. Fine, she can keep her bloody ring. At least I'll keep is my dignity intact. Besides, why do __**I **__care if she's engaged to the Weasel? It's not like I particularly like her. Truthfully, I'm not sure __**what**__ I feel for her. It doesn't even matter now, anyway. She'll be married to Weasley soon enough and they'll undoubtedly be having a litter of children of their own. Oh, I shudder to think that he'll pass on his disastrous red hair. Poor children. On the other hand, if they had a father like me… wait, did I just think about having hypothetical children with Granger? What gives! No matter, this date with Astoria should definitely raise my spirits._

He heard some more giggling and Draco rolled his eyes, muttering a noise-blocking spell so he wouldn't have to put up with any more happy sounds coming from her office.

"Yippee-bloody-skippy," Draco murmured scornfully, turning to focus on work.

* * *

Thanks for taking the time to read!


	9. Chapter 9

Posting this early since I'll be busy tomorrow.

Disclaimer: I continue to own nothing.

* * *

Days later, Hermione still couldn't get his words out of her head.

"_I'm afraid I wouldn't entirely mean it."_

_Why wouldn't he mean it? I know he's not particularly fond of Ron… but that's no reason to not congratulate me, either. Besides, I thought we were friendly. Wouldn't he want to congratulate __**me**__?_

She scowled, standing in the middle of her closet, lost in thought.

Tonight she had a double date with Harry and Ginny; they were headed to a French restaurant that garnered great reviews since opening a few weeks back.

_My first date with Ron in ages and I don't know what to wear. I wonder what Ginny's wearing, maybe I could Floo her…_

She was about to turn around and get a hold of her future sister-in-law when a dress caught her eye. Hermione practically floated to it, rubbing the satiny material between her fingers before smiling and rubbing it against her cheek.

_Yes, it's perfect. It might show off a little too much skin, but Merlin knows when the next opportune time comes to go on a date with my fiancé. Hmm how strange it is to call him that. I suppose I better get used to it… I might get a little too comfortable and have a difficult time calling him by the next one: husband._

For some reason, a shiver went through her body… and it wasn't one of happiness or longing.

_I'm supposed to be happy, glowing, in love. Why can't I muster enough energy to be at least one of those?_

She sighed, recalling how on her most recent visit, Molly and Fleur Weasley took over the wedding preparations zealously. She handed over the task willingly, thanking them and telling them she was on the cusp of victory on her current werewolf rights case. Though this time, she had enough sense to leave the 'Draco Malfoy' part out of it. It seemed like the Weasley's weren't too fond of him and she couldn't really blame them. But couldn't they let bygones be bygones?

_I've scarcely seen Draco ever since he saw the ring… he's just been holed up in his office, only leaving to eat, have me sign or approve something, and in he goes again. For the life of me, I don't understand why he wouldn't mean a simple 'congratulations.' I'm not going to lie, I miss the easy chatter we had… but it's not like I can simply lure him out. I don't even know what's wrong with him! Malfoy, Malfoy… why are you such an enigma?_

She slipped her cotton robe off and blushed with pleasure as she looked at herself in the mirror, scantily clad in what could barely be passed off as 'undergarments.' She wore lacy, black lingerie; her bra was the balconet kind and it gave her breasts just the right amount of lift to create an enticing cleavage. Her cheeky knickers showed off her shapely bum thanks to the sheer material covering it and Hermione blushed deeper; she giggled and wiggled it for good measure.

_Honestly, stop horsing around, Hermione. You look good but that's no reason to arrive late. It's a shame that Ron and I haven't been intimate as of late… if anything could get his motors up and running, it would definitely be this. Still, nothing perks a girl right up better than knowing she's wearing naughty lingerie underneath her clothes._

She slipped her crimson dress on, pulling the zipper up delicately and smoothing out any strange lumps. Hermione grinned excitedly as she surveyed herself; the hemline fell a tiny bit below her fingers, thus showing off her nice legs. The dress had a deep square neckline and cap sleeves, the former which showed off a sliver of tempting cleavage. The dress clung to her figure, emphasizing the curves she had. Her eyes went to the faint scar which read 'Mudblood,' giving her pause for a moment.

_It's nothing to be ashamed of._

She drew herself taller and went to search for a pair of gold heels. She slid them on, quickly wrapping the ankle straps around her slim ankles and sliding the end through the buckle, securing it close. After securing her hair in a low chignon with a few wisps loose, she focused on her makeup; some mascara, simple black liner that flicked out and crimson red lipstick was all she needed. They made her look smoldering and it fascinated her to see herself transformed into a femme fatale. With a few squirts of her favorite perfume and tossing her lipstick and necessities into her purse, she was ready to go. She grabbed her wand and was on the verge of Disapparating when she remembered she had forgotten to put her ring on.

_Oops! Ron wouldn't be very amused… as a matter of fact, I wouldn't doubt that this would start a row between us. As if we really need reasons to argue when we barely get a chance see each other. I'm so swamped with work and one would think he'd understand… but nope, just skulking around my office, making sure I'm not "spending any extra time with Malfoy." I really had no choice when I banned him from the level, I was barely getting any work done! Of course, I didn't tell him that Malfoy is going out of his way to cut any meetings with me short… why does it bother me anyway? It's for the best, especially seeing how I might be at a different department after the wedding._

She finally Disapparated and found herself face to face with Ginny, who was wearing a sparkling emerald dress that did wonders to her porcelain skin and red hair.

"Gin, you look gorgeous!" she squealed, feeling excited all of a sudden.

"No, you're the one who looks like a smoldering temptress! Just wait 'til my brother sees you, he won't be able to take his eyes – and hopefully hands – off of you!" she squealed in return.

"I bet Harry won't be able to take either off of you!" Hermione grinned, nudging her side.

Ginny giggled, brushing off Hermione's comment.

"By the way, where _are_ the gentlemen in question?" Hermione asked, looking around.

"Harry said they would arrive together. I believe they were getting ready at Grimmauld Place. Isn't that precious?" she snickered.

Hermione laughed and shrugged.

"Excuse me miss, but your table's ready," the hostess said, standing next to them.

"Should we really sit down without them?" Hermione asked, nibbling on her lip nervously.

"Stop that! You'll get lipstick on your teeth. And yes, it would serve them right for being late!"

"Oh, very well then. Maybe we could start out with a nice wine while we wait for them…"

"Yes! Sounds great. Two are missing from our party, but if you could please kindly direct them to our table," Ginny said as the hostess motioned them to follow her.

"No problem, miss. Here we go. Your waiter will be along soon. Enjoy!" she chirped, smiling down at them.

Hermione looked around, stunned at what beautiful place the restaurant was. Chandeliers were hung everywhere, the prisms throwing rainbows on the plush carpet and walls. Their waiter soon approached them and Hermione was about to place an order for a glass of rose wine when a certain head of platinum blonde hair caught her attention.

"I can't believe it!" she gasped, trying not to goggle.

"What? What is it Hermione? Is it Harry and Ron? Merlin, are they getting a piece of my mind," she murmured darkly.

"No, not that! Malfoy just arrived. Not only that, he's got a rather voluptuous blonde on his arm!" Hermione whispered, craning her neck slightly to get a better view of where the hostess was leading them.

"Oooh!" Ginny cooed, turning to look at the pair. "I wonder if that's his girlfriend!"

"No, I don't think so. At least he's never mentioned having one to me," Hermione murmured, a small frown creasing her forehead.

Ginny raised a brow at her friend.

"Why would he tell _you_ that?"

Hermione flushed, dropping her eyes to the tabletop, which was covered in black satin.

"Well, we've gotten friendly, I suppose," she muttered, unable to look at Ginny.

"Hmm… who would have ever thought that you and Malfoy would become bosom buddies?" she snickered. "I guess he's not an insufferable git anymore, then?"

"He's not. He's very polite and gentlemanly. It's quite refreshing; Ronald could stand to take a few lessons from him."

Ginny snickered again.

"Don't let my dear ol' brother hear you say that, he would _absolutely_ go barking. So I guess you two have gotten pretty chummy, eh? Does he talk about his family?"

Hermione shook her head and nibbled on her lip again.

"He's only mentioned his mum, but only in passing. I'm not too keen on meddling in his life."

"Yet you sound surprised and slightly disappointed to find out that he has a shag bunny," Ginny pointed out wisely.

Hermione felt her eyes bug out and shook her head, feeling a little more than agitated.

"Ginny, _please_. Why would I be disappointed? Besides, it's his business who he dates or… shags," she said, uttering the last word with a mix of disgust and shame, looking around timidly.

Ginny wiggled her brows provocatively at Hermione, undoubtedly having fun teasing her.

"C'mon, Hermione! It would make sense that you get a little attached to him," she said clinically, taking a sip of her wine. "Also, his conduct impresses you while your fiancé's has been a little lackluster lately. It's alright. Ron may be my brother and I love him and I _know_ you love him… besides you're engaged, not dead! And I hate to admit it, but Malfoy is a _delectable_ specimen of a man."

"_Ginevra!" _Hermione hissed, glancing around hurriedly once more.

But her friend just laughed, sneaking a peak from the corner of her eyes to look at said gentleman and stopped.

"He's looking at you, Hermione! More like eye humping you," she giggled, taking another sip of wine.

"What? Nonsense, Ginevra," Hermione muttered nervously, turning slightly to look to her right.

Sure enough, Draco Malfoy was staring at her, a bowled over expression gracing his pale face. His lips were parted with surprise and his pale eyebrows raised while his eyes practically jutted out of their sockets as he stared at Hermione rather intently.

She felt herself blush deeply (_I'm sure my face matches my dress now, great_) and offered him a tentative little smile before looking away.

"See? See! I told you, Hermione! If I didn't know any better… I'd say that he has a thing for you…" she trailed off, staring at her friend in thought.

Hermione felt her face grow impossibly hotter and took a sip of wine to cool down.

"Ginny, that's nonsense. What would _Draco Malfoy_ see in me?" Hermione scoffed, a terrible hope blossoming in her chest.

"The same things Ron saw, I s'pose," she shrugged.

"_Ron_. They're really late," Hermione frowned, desperate for a change of topic.

"They've really done it this time. Potter will have _much_ to make up for later," she growled, seeming to forget Hermione and Malfoy.

Hermione couldn't help but giggle seeing her friend's wrath.

_Redheads are known to be temperamental, after all. And I'll be getting married to one. It'll be like our common room rows all over again… except forever._

She frowned slightly when a familiar mop of red hair caught her eye.

"Oh, they're here. _Don't turn around. _Should we pretend that everything's peachy?" Hermione queried under her breath.

"Oh, yes. We'll make them pay," Ginny said, a dark twinkle in her eye.

Hermione was sorely tempted to give Malfoy a glance, just to see his expression when Ron and Harry arrived. Instead, she made herself focus on her _fiancé_ and pretend that everything was alright. Ron seemed to mumble all sorts of excuses but zero apologies. He finally leaned down to press a kiss on Hermione's cheek when she chanced a peek at Malfoy; he was indeed staring once more, his eyes narrowed with subtle distaste. She quickly looked away and forced a smile at Ron, who happened to be running his eyes all over every inch of skin of hers he could see.

"Mione, you sure are looking beautiful tonight," he whispered in her ear.

His breath tickled her ear and she let out a laugh, squirming away from him.

"Thank you, Ron, glad you noticed. You look, er, nice too."

Truth was, he was looking rather mismatched. He was wearing a maroon button down shirt with olive trousers while clad in black shoes. It looked like he attempted to flatten his hair, but there was still some hair sticking erratically at the back and sides. If Hermione were honest with herself, she would have realized that she felt abashed to be seen with him.

"Why aren't you wearing that new tie I bought you, Ron? I think it would have looked good with your, erm, outfit," she said, reaching out to place her hand on his arm.

"You know I hate wearing ties, Hermione. I feel like they're choking me," he shrugged, pulling a face.

She stared at him, wondering whether he was being serious or not. Seconds later Hermione realized that he was.

"But you were complaining last time that you had no decent ties to wear and when I finally buy one for you, you simply choose not to wear it," she said, trying to reason out his logic.

"Mione," he groaned. "Can you drop it?"

She nodded tersely, noticing how Ginny kept eyeing them and ignored what Harry was telling her about the new Auror he'd hired. Hermione straightened her posture and chanced a sly glimpse at Malfoy; he seemed to be in deep conversation with his date.

But it was almost like her gaze was magnetic, drawing him and so he gave her a quick glance before turning back to his date. She sighed and turned to look at Ron, the nagging feeling of disappointment poking at her.

"Are you all ready to order?" the waiter asked, flashing Hermione a big smile.

"I sure am. I'd like the soupe au pistou, please," she smiled, closing her menu.

The waiter nodded, giving her one last smile before turning to Ginny.

"I'd like coq au vin please," she said.

The waiter took another peep at Hermione before turning to Harry ("Steak frites, please.").

Hermione noticed that Ron had his hands in fists and that his face was red as he eyed the waiter.

"_Es-car-got_ for me," he said, glaring up at the waiter.

The waiter blinked at him for a few seconds and then wrote his order in.

"Everything all right, miss? Could I get you two ladies any more wine?" he smiled flirtatiously at Hermione.

She felt her cheeks redden but managed to smile and nod all the same. Had she looked at Ron, she would have noticed that his eye was twitching with jealousy. The waiter came back with the bottle and generously poured the wine to the top, giving Hermione the tiniest of winks.

That, however, seemed to be what drove Ron to explode.

"That's enough!" he shouted at the waiter, who blinked and turned to Ron. "That's my fiancée you keep making cow eyes at, you wanker! So if you appreciate having a job, I recommend you behave respectfully toward _me_!"

Hermione saw everybody in the restaurant stop their conversations and turn to look at them. She felt like vanishing on the spot and couldn't think of any words that would serve as apology to the waiter. She didn't even want to look at Malfoy now, who was probably sneering at them, calling Ron all sorts of true words in his head.

The waiter nodded and apologized primly, taking off and heading to the back to take their orders in.

"Great, now our food is probably going to have spit in it," Harry muttered, giving his friend a peeved glance.

"That is bloody disgusting," Ron scoffed, not bothering to lower his voice.

"I'll be right back," Hermione whispered, unable to take anymore and standing up.

"Where are you going?" Ron snapped, narrowing his eyes at her.

"To the restroom... if that's okay with your highness," Hermione hissed, pushing her chair in with a little more force than necessary.

She raised herself to her full height and walked away with as much dignity as she could muster, trying to ignore the hushed whispers that had broken out in the restaurant.

* * *

Thanks for taking the time to read and as always, thanks for continue to support my fic. :)


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I own nada.

* * *

Draco thought that they could literally hear a pin drop (as the Muggles said) in the restaurant after Weasley exploded at the waiter. He couldn't quite blame him but that was no reason to yell at the innocent bloke. Still… when he saw Hermione stand up, he could almost feel the drool drip off his chin.

_Then again... _

"Excuse me," he muttered suddenly to Astoria, who looked slightly taken aback.

She nodded, fluttering her long lashes in confusion. He gave her the smallest of smiles and rose as elegantly as he could, striding as fast as possible towards the back, which is where he knew the restrooms were located.

Out of slight interest, he went into the men's just to look at his impeccably dressed self. As always, he'd dressed in black. He just felt so much more handsome and loved the contrast it created with his hair. Speaking of which…

_Blast you, little hair strand! Why won't you do my bidding and lie down?! This may have been the reason I slicked my hair back. Of course, it wasn't very flattering… but then again, it __**was**__ me._

He smoothed down the front of his shirt and vest, fixing his silver tie last. He smiled and winked at his reflection before sashaying out. He leaned against the dark marble wall in the foyer, hoping that Hermione hadn't slipped out whilst he admired himself. Every time a woman walked out of the restroom, he felt his heart speed up only to find that it wasn't her. He was about to give up, tucking his hands into the pockets of his trousers and slumped his shoulders slightly when out she came, looking ahead of her and deep in thought.

He was thankful for his long legs (but wasn't he always?) but at the rate Hermione was going, she wasn't going to notice them in time and would doubtlessly end up toppling over them. So he straightened his posture and cleared his throat, causing her to jump in surprise.

"Malfoy!" she gasped, clutching her pale throat. "What are you doing here?"

"Why, good evening Granger. It's so nice to see you too," he drawled, smirking at her.

She huffed and gave him a look that floundered between amusement and no-nonsense.

"Just came out of the loo, of course," he lied with an indolent shrug of his shoulder.

"But… why did you seem to be standing there?" she asked, frowning slightly as she turned to peer behind her for a moment.

"Who are you looking for?" he chuckled, choosing to ignore her question.

"Your date? Surely that's why you're lurking outside the loo," she deduced, eyes zeroing on the hair that didn't lie flat.

He brushed it down nervously before crossing his arms tightly across his chest.

"No, she's at the table. Undoubtedly wondering what the hell came over her date that he had to get up so abruptly," Draco said, feasting his eyes upon her face.

_Merlin, she's absolutely stunning. Such beauty and brains is wasted on the poor excuse of a man she's engaged to. I suspected she had a nice body, but I didn't know to what degree. Rawr, baby, rawr. I wonder what lies underneath her dress…_

"How's it going so far?" she asked him, eyes flashing down toward his tie.

"Wouldn't doubt if she was half in love with me already," he sighed dramatically.

Hermione rolled her eyes but gave him a grudging smile all the same.

"If only all men could dress as well as you," she mumbled, staring at his tie.

It flattered the hell out of him but he found it so out of nowhere that he didn't know how to respond, so he didn't.

"You obviously have nothing against ties," she said, this time more clearly.

He chuckled and cocked his head.

"Are you kidding me? I love ties! You should see my collection."

She raised her eyebrow skeptically, narrowing her eyes slightly at him.

"Is that what you tell women so you can take them back to your place?"

He stared at her for a moment before bursting out in laughter. She watched him, amazed, as he doubled over and slapped his thigh.

"No, but thanks for the suggestion. Who knew Granger had it in her to give _me_ advice on how to get some," he mused, straightening his posture once more.

Her cheeks burned bright but he just smiled cheekily at her.

_I just love riling her up, nothing gets me more excited than seeing her cheeks burn and that twinkle in her eye. Of course, there are more ways she could get me excited…_

Draco shook his head abruptly and cleared his throat.

"Well, it appears as if you have recovered from that ghastly incident. I'll be well on my way, then," he said, although he wasn't so keen to watch her leave her just yet.

Her face went blank for a moment before looking up at him, grabbing his left arm suddenly. Draco nearly jumped out of his skin at her touch and it didn't help her fingers were curled around the very spot where the Dark Mark had been branded. He swallowed nervously, her hand feeling uncomfortably hot through the fabric of his shirt; unthinkingly, he ripped his arm from her grasp, causing her to drop her mouth in shock.

"I'm sorry, that was terribly rude of me. That's where the Dark Mark was…" he trailed off, looking down at the floor.

He heard her gasp softly but didn't say anything and so they stood standing together in awkward silence.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to— it was thoughtless… you shouldn't keep your date waiting. She's very pretty, from what I saw," she told him softly before walking away.

He let out the softest of groans as he watched her walk away from him.

_Merlin's saggy trousers, what an arse. That lucky, undeserving bastard…_

He felt his face turn red and shook his head once more.

_I should go back to Astoria. I've spent enough time away from her._

He let out a deep sigh, straightened his back and slipped one hand out of his pocket, giving him a very suave look. As he strutted back into the dining room, he could feel the women turn to stare at him.

_If only I could read minds. Or maybe not… I'm not so sure I'd like to hear what Granger __**truly**__ thinks of me._

Still, he knew there was only one pair of (chocolate brown) eyes that he wanted on him.

He spotted Astoria's golden hair and sat back down quickly, giving her a small apologetic smile.

"Long line?" she asked wryly.

He chuckled softly and took a sip of his elf-made wine.

"You don't even know."

"The man who exploded at the waiter… is that Harry Potter at his table?" she whispered curiously.

Truthfully, Draco hadn't noticed. He'd been too busy thinking of Hermione, so he glanced over at the table for a moment and nodded.

"Sure is. Along with his wife and best friends, who happen to be engaged; one of who happens to be my boss," Draco said, marveling inwardly at the tragedy of it all.

"Which one is your boss?" she asked, turning to look at their table with interest.

"The woman in red, Hermione Granger," he answered shortly.

Astoria turned back around, eyebrows elevated with shock.

"The Mudblood's your boss?" she whispered, leaning closer to him.

Draco felt as if the blood in his veins has suddenly turned blisteringly hot.

"Don't call her that," he snapped, unable to keep his cool.

She arched her eyebrow dubiously and watched him compose himself.

"Seems like I've struck a nerve. But I apologize nonetheless. I didn't do it out of condescension; it's just a term that I was raised with. Well, you should be more than familiar with that," she smiled sardonically.

He nodded curtly, not bothering to look back at her.

_Is this what Weasley felt when I called Granger that? Is this what __**she**__ felt every time I called her that? Merlin, I truly was a monster._

"You like her," she suddenly said in an aghast tone.

"I do not. She's my boss and I respect her. She's truly a brilliant woman," he answered far too quickly for his liking.

She smirked, something that annoyed the hell out of him.

_I'm liking her less and less every moment. She may be __**extremely**__ easy on the eyes, but I find that I can't stand her and that just won't do. But maybe… maybe I just haven't given her a proper chance. I've been so focused on Granger that I haven't quite paid attention to what she's told me. Tut tut, what kind of gentleman have I become?_

"I, too, would like to apologize. I didn't mean to come off sounding sensitive. I truly admire her and don't particularly enjoy listening to someone who barely knows her make snap judgments," he offered, shrugging a shoulder.

Astoria watched him for a moment until her lips finally spread in a smile.

"I'm sorry too. Really. I suppose I'm just nervous. I haven't gone out on a date in a while and I really like you," she admitted, letting out a soft laugh.

He couldn't help but smile at her, watching how her face lit up when she smiled.

_She truly is beautiful._

His eyes couldn't help but glance where Hermione was seated.

_Can't forget about how single __**she**__ is._

Draco snapped his eyes back to her face and saw that she was watching him curiously.

"So what made you visit my mother?" he asked her as the waiter arrived with their food.

"Well, honestly, I'd been thinking about you for a while. I knew I was going to be in town for a while so I went to visit your mother to see if I should give wooing you a go," she said, cutting into her duck.

He chuckled as he cut a piece of his filet mignon and chewed, the spices filling his mouth in symphony.

"I must be honest with you, I was never one to have relationships," Draco confessed, shrugging a shoulder.

"Oh, I know. I remember that very well. Except for Pansy, maybe."

He raised his brows with a begrudging appreciation.

"You remember that?"

"I remember everything about you," she admitted shyly, looking down at her plate.

He felt something strange in his chest and idly wondered if it would be worth checking out with a doctor. Still, he couldn't help how his lips formed a genuine smile.

They continued to chat amiably until it was finally time to go. Draco stood and gently rested his hand against her lower back as they made their way to the exit. He also tried not to look at Hermione, afraid of what he'd see should he let his eyes wander.

"Dinner was delicious, thank you very much," Astoria smiled as they walked out.

She took hold of his right arm, causing him to stiffen for a moment before realizing it was meant to be a friendly gesture.

"Jumpy, aren't you?" she grinned.

"_Twitchy little ferret, aren't you Malfoy?" _

He chuckled weakly, wanting to push any memory of _her_ away.

"Are you sure you wouldn't like dessert?" he asked yet again.

"No, I'm sure. But thanks for offering."

_I could turn you into my dessert, darling._

"Doesn't hurt to ask," he shrugged, squinting down at her.

A slight breeze passed, one that toyed with Astoria's golden mane. She had been watching him intently as he watched her with mild interest, one that grew by the second. He could hear voices in the near distance and Astoria let out a soft laugh before grabbing him by the lapels of his coat, pulling him in for a kiss.

He froze for the briefest of seconds before kissing her back, pressing his body closer to hers. Her lips were soft and adept, something he found pleasing. They struggled with each other for control for a moment and Draco had the sudden urge to laugh out loud.

The voices got closer and Draco could _feel_ the people to whom they belonged to staring, but he just couldn't quite bring himself to care at the moment.

"Hermione, aren't you coming as well?"

Draco stilled at the sound of her name and knew right then and there that his secret had finally been uncovered by Astoria. Worse still, Hermione had more than likely witnessed him snogging the stuffing out of her.

_Why it bothers me, I won't even begin to fathom at the moment..._

"N-no, I'm fine, Ronald. Think I'll just head home for a bubble bath," he heard her respond quietly after the sound of her heels scraped to a sudden stop.

He groaned softly and pulled away from Astoria as her eyes watched him intently, face blank. He looked back at her, feeling thankful for the darkness that surrounded him because he could feel his face burn.

"Are you su— bloody hell, she just left like that!" he heard the Weasel complain.

"No kidding, Ron! After all the stunts you pulled on her tonight, do you really expect her to go back home with you and fellate you all night?" he heard female Weasley ask her clueless older brother.

Draco felt the sudden urge to laugh but reined it in, otherwise they'd know that he was eavesdropping on them.

"Oi, Ginny. I never, ever want to hear you talking about that again, you hear me?" Ron snapped at her.

"Oh, Harry, please cover ickle Ronnie's virgin baby ears. They're much too sensitive to hear the truth," she said in a mock whisper.

"Ginny…" Weasel threatened.

"Seriously, Ron. How _thick_ can you get? Either you better get her really nice flowers, chocolates or some jewelry. Know what, why not make it all three? Because the clusterfuck that you caused tonight will _not_ be forgotten by Hermione anytime soon and you know it. Let's go, Harry. Now's here's a man who _deserves_ things," she said, ending with a purr.

With a _pop_ they, too, were gone.

The Weasel remained alone, grumbling under his breath and Draco found himself urging him to Apparate before he lost control of his temper once more. After what sounded like a rock being kicked, he finally did and Draco sighed with relief.

"Well, that was an interesting conversation," Astoria commented lightly.

"Oh! Yes," he said, feeling abashed at forgetting that she was there. "Who knew the female Weasley was so droll? I approve of her being Granger's best friend."

He suddenly noticed Astoria's eyes become shiny with tears.

_Uh-oh… I'm not particularly good with female emotions that include tears._

"You don't have to say, Draco. I know. But _you_ should know that she's engaged," she whispered, staring intently at him.

"For Merlin's sake, I know! Okay? I _know_," he growled, feeling half exasperated and half miserable.

"Why don't we give this a try?" she suggested, taking a tentative hold of his hand.

"For all you know, this is going nowhere," he retorted, having half a mind to snatch his hand back.

"I don't care, Draco. At least we'd have _tried,_ right?"

Draco stared at her, once again finding her ridiculously beautiful. But there was more than just beauty to Astoria as well; she was smart and incredibly lady-like.

"Fine," he grumbled. "Just don't blame me if—"

"Shut up, Draco," she whispered, pulling him in for another kiss.

_Well, that's certainly an easy way to silence me._

* * *

Thanks for reading as always! Have a wonderful weekend, ya'll. :)


	11. Chapter 11

Thank you so much for the reviews, following and putting the fic under your favorites! :)

Disclaimer: I have yet to own anything but the plot. So don't sue, ya'll.

* * *

Hermione found herself to be in a foul mood as she riffled through the drawers of her desk, searching for a document that she needed Malfoy to look over.

_Nothing is going right today! First I scald my tongue with the tea, and then I can't find Collins and now this bloody paper… what's next? Breaking my quill?_

But just as soon as she found the blasted document, she grabbed her quill to sign… but the nib of her quill broke.

_Spoke too soon._

She yowled out of frustration, chucking the quill aside and swept all the papers from her desk and onto the floor. She slumped back in her chair, pressing the heel of her hands tightly against her eyes.

_I'm a grown woman and grown women don't burst into tears like babies. I'm a grown woman and grown women don't burst into tears like bab—_

"Granger? What in Merlin's sake happened?" asked the astonished voice of Draco Malfoy.

She let out a disbelieving sigh that came out as a hiss, lowering her hands slowly before dropping them lifelessly onto her lap.

_Just what I needed... Malfoy snooping around. He'll probably just make me feel worse._

"Not having a good day. Nothing seems to be going my way," she muttered petulantly as she forced herself to look up at him.

And boy, what a sight. He was wearing his usual black garments though his tie was silver today, reminding her of the disastrous date night; she groaned inwardly but gave him a feigned smile all the same.

"Want me to make you some tea? Wait, don't answer that. I know it's just what you need," he said as he began to busy himself.

Hermione couldn't help but stare at him as he did, finding him to look so homely and unlike himself. As he set the steaming mug in front of her, she still couldn't help but gawk at him.

His face was earnest, no smirk or sneer in sight. His eyes weren't their usual steel grey either; instead, they looked rather like liquid silver.

"Thank you, this was nice of you," she murmured as she let the warmth of the tea warm her hands.

He chuckled softly, taking a seat and watching her.

"I'm not nice, Granger."

"You hadn't done this in a while," she spoke, feeling drawn to his eyes.

A corner of his mouth lifted and said, "I didn't want to get told off, you see. I knew there would come a day when you'd tell you're perfectly capable of doing it yourself."

She stared at him, unsure of whether he was joking or not.

"But I never did."

"But you never did," he agreed, giving her a peculiar look that sent tremors down her spine.

"Nevertheless, I always appreciated it," Hermione assured him, taking the smallest of sips.

"I suppose this'll come in handy someday…" he trailed off musingly.

She furrowed her eyebrows and looked at him curiously, cocking her head.

"For the married life. Don't you know, Granger? I'm engaged too," he told her, nary a smile in sight.

She felt her world stop and collapse in itself in that moment.

_Deep breaths, deep breaths Hermione._

"You… you're what?" she whispered hoarsely, setting her mug on the desk so roughly that some tea sloshed out of it.

He stared back at her, his eyes turning softer by the moment.

"Engaged, Granger. To be married, as I'm sure you know," he smirked then, the ghost of her words lingering between them.

"But… how? I didn't think… you never said..." she sputtered incoherently, blinking madly.

"Her name is Astoria Greengrass. Long story short, she went to my mother and showed interest in me. We've gone out a couple of times and… we're engaged now," he explained placidly, clasping his hands together.

Hermione's mouth hung open at his words.

"You've only been on _a few _dates and you're deciding to get married? Just like that? What kind of rubbish decision is that?" she scoffed, feeling much more irked than she ought have been.

"Not all of us can afford to marry for love, Granger," he told her quietly, looking down at his lap.

"Look at you, Draco Malfoy, talking about something he can't afford," she said harshly, shaking her head in disbelief.

He smiled without any real humor and nodded.

"Do you… do you love her?" she asked timidly.

"No, not really," he replied shortly, looking away for a moment.

"That's no way to live."

His eyes snapped back to hers and Hermione noticed the iciness in them.

"Oh, it's easy for you to criticize, Granger! You've got Weasley," he spat out. "You've been with him for five years and love him. I'm aware that while any woman would marry me, there aren't many that would do so out of love. You know me. I'm stubborn, cynical and cold. They would only put up with me because I'm easy on the eyes and because I'm obscenely wealthy… and what kind of life would that be, really? Astoria, on the other hand… it's different with her."

Hermione felt a sharp pang in her chest and she wasn't too sure whether it was because of his self-deprecating, downright loathing comments or implying that Astoria herself was different. Quite frankly, she didn't want to dwell too much on it lest she uncover something she ought not. She belatedly realized that her eyes must have filled up with tears because Draco's outline had grown fuzzy.

_Oh, no... please don't cry, Hermione._

"How can you appreciate yourself so little, Malfoy? Sure, you may be those things but from what you've shown me, you're capable of much more. But only if you let yourself! It seems as if you're stuck in the past and who you used to be… that's going to get you nowhere. Sure, you made mistakes in the past… but you're past paying for them, Malfoy. Why won't you let yourself be happy? Why won't you believe that there's a woman who's bound to make you happy without having to settle for whoever shows the slightest bit of interest your way?" she asked through gritted teeth, gesturing wildly. "Because that's what it feels like you're doing to me, Malfoy. You're settling and I've never thought of you as a man who settled for _anything_, most especially a woman."

_Even if said woman is seemingly perfect._

He simply stared at her, seemingly at a loss for words.

"Well then, Granger… where is this woman who will give me so-called happiness?" he asked tiredly, running his fingers through his flaxen locks. "If you happen to see her, would you please let her know that I'm looking for her?"

"It's not fair that you're just giving up. It's not like you," she told him quietly, ignoring his pithy comment.

A ghost of a smile lurked on his lips as he watched her.

"I wouldn't have minded marrying you," he spoke softly.

Hermione blinked, staring at the man before her in surprise.

"_What?_"

"You're _so_ unlike anybody I know, Granger. I never expected myself to become close to you, yet here we are. I enjoy working with you, regardless of how demanding, aggravated or stressed you become throughout the day. I have grown... to... to care for you. I have even managed to find a semblance of tranquility and happiness by your side. I can't even remember the last time I felt _one_ of those things yet I feel like that every day, with you. I can see why everybody in the department, hell, the whole Ministry, respects you. You truly are the best boss," he spoke fervidly, his eyes never leaving hers.

Hermione tried to respond but couldn't because of the lump in her throat; a large part of her was sure it was her heart. She couldn't even help the tears that trickled down her eyes during his impassioned speech. Draco looked distressed for a moment after taking notice of them but with cold, shaky fingers she hastily brushed them away.

"Not even… not even Ron spoke of happiness when he proposed, that git," she sniffled, unable to contain the tears that continued to well up in her eyes.

"I've always known and voiced how much of an idiot Weasley is, Granger. You could have spared yourself the trouble and just listened to me," he told her, half jokingly. "Don't you love him? Don't you want to marry him?"

"I love Ron, I _do_… but he's _so_ insensitive all the time and he can get ridiculously jealous," she admitted exhaustively, running a fingertip along the rim of her mug.

"Is he jealous of me?" Draco asked, deeply amused.

"You have _no_ idea," she muttered, rolling her eyes.

Draco grinned widely then, letting out a pleased bark of laughter.

"As he _should_ be, really."

"That doesn't make our relationship any easier. As a matter of fact, I can't recall the last time we were both happy," she whispered uneasily, biting her lip.

"It seems like Weasley has yet to learn the fine art of appreciation," Draco told her dryly.

"I love him, but there are times when he drives me up the wall! It makes me question what I saw in him in the first place..."

"You've just got to keep on loving him. It won't make things easier, but it'll certainly help," he said to her after a long moment of silence.

She let out a watery chuckle and gave him an incredulous look.

"Who would have ever thought that _Draco Malfoy_ would ever give _me_, Hermione Mudblood Granger, relationship advice?"

He scowled fiercely at her and leaned forward in the chair.

"Don't call yourself that, Granger," he snapped at her. "I'm sorry I ever did."

"Why deny what I am, Malfoy? But… don't worry. I eventually learned not to let it get to me."

He gave her a weak smile and watched as she drank the remains of her now-cold tea.

"I guess I won't be invited to your wedding, huh?" he smirked halfheartedly.

Hermione chuckled softly but shook her head.

"I'm afraid not. I'm sure Ron would think you have a dastardly plot up your sleeve. Something like attending solely to steal me away before walking down the aisle," she said with an eye roll.

"That's not a bad idea..." he mused, stroking his chin in thought.

"Well, what about _your_ fiancée? I'm sure she wouldn't find it terribly amusing to discover that you've brought somebody else's fiancée home."

"Oh, we don't live together," he responded, shrugging a shoulder.

They watched each other for a few moments as a strange, fluttery feeling crept up on Hermione.

"So you're really getting married then, Malfoy?"

"Yes."

Hermione nodded slowly, the feeling of disparaging sadness spreading all over her; it felt akin to the coldness that overtook her when the Dementor boarded the Hogwarts Express third year.

_Oh, no… oh, please Merlin no… the last thing I need is emotions confusing me! I… love Ron. I love Ron. Absolutely. I've loved him since I was thirteen and now we're engaged!_

"I wouldn't have minded marrying you either," she spoke softly, biting her lip.

His dove grey eyes grew to the size of saucers.

"You may not consider yourself to be nice, but you're certainly agreeable. You're responsible, hardworking, surprisingly thoughtful… and in the time you've worked here, I've become fond of you. Hermione Granger, fond of Draco Malfoy. Who would have thought?" she chuckled softly, giving her head a shake.

He opened his mouth to speak but closed it upon second thought. She licked her lips nervously and watched as his eyes darted down to her mouth, watching the motion intently before focusing on her eyes once more. The silence stretched between them and although it wasn't awkward, it felt electric. Hermione couldn't help but think that sparks would fly if they were to touch.

_I need to get him out of here before I tell him something I might end up regretting. Now, Hermione!_

"I need you to look over this. Please and thank you," she said dismissively, handing over some documents without looking at him.

She felt Draco continue to stare at her as she held the papers out in her hand. He seemed to shake himself before reaching for them, grabbing the opposite side from where her fingers gripped the document. Even so, Hermione could have sworn that she felt a jolt pass through her.

"I'll, erm, bring these back later," he murmured as he walked out of her office.

She nodded, not bothering to look at him.

"Would you be a peach and close the door? Thanks," she said coolly, still not looking up at him.

Hermione could feel him staring at her but she forced herself not to look back. She finally heard the door get closed and slouched forward in her seat, pressing her forehead against her desk.

_I'm such an idiot. What kind of engaged woman tells another engaged man that she wouldn't mind getting married to him? I must have shocked the Slytherin out of him for not to reply. But could he… have been serious? Did he truly mean that? I guess it doesn't even matter at this point, seeing as how he's engaged to Astoria Greengrass and I'm engaged to Ron Weasley._

She let out a heavy sigh and frowned at the scattered papers on the floor. With a flourish of her wand, the papers were once again stacked in neat piles on her desk.

_I like Draco Malfoy. I must! Or else I'd never have told him… oh, bugger. But how could I do that to Ron? Sure, he may not be the best man sometimes… but he still loves me. Merlin… why would he propose to me now, of all times? Could he sense my shifting feelings towards Malfoy? Is that why he's been so selfish and jealous?_

She flicked her wand at her quill and it became as good as new.

_Of all times for Malfoy to get engaged, why did it have to be now? Could he… well, he said he liked me. But 'like' me how? Oh, seriously, Hermione. Does it even matter? You're engaged! This is so confusing. Continuing to work with him will undoubtedly confuse me further. Perhaps I should quit now… no, that wouldn't be right. Who am I kidding? One of the reasons I enjoy coming to work is for his witty banter. I enjoy seeing that part of Draco Malfoy I was deprived of for so long. Most teachers were over the moon with me and my grades, so I can imagine just how overshadowed Draco must have felt but he's really very brilliant. I just love our mind-stimulating chats and it's not like I can just talk to Ron…_

Hermione looked out her window and saw that the "sky" was dreary and grey.

_Like his eyes. As if I really need a reminder of the man when he's quite literally next door. I just knew today was going to be a bad day. I wish I wasn't always right._

* * *

When it rains, it pours, huh?

Anyway, happy Monday!


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

* * *

Draco shifted uncomfortably in his seat, ignoring the inane chatter between his mother and fiancée.

"—you think, Draco?"

The chatter came to a merciful pause… but he could feel himself getting stared at.

"Draco, son?" Narcissa's voice asked worriedly, snapping him out of his reverie.

"Yes? I'm so sorry, I was just thinking of the latest coalition act toward vampires," he lied smoothly, having the grace to look rueful.

Astoria and his mother traded exasperated glances, the latter giving him a tight-lipped smile.

"Lovely Astoria was just recounting how everything is basically ready for the wedding," Narcissa told Draco in a steely voice.

"Ah, yes… nearly everything," he nodded absently, lifting a porcelain cup to his lips.

"_Nearly_ everything?" his mother asked, sounding positively scandalized.

Draco glanced down and noticed that his teacup was empty. He set it down carefully, not wanting to get scolded by his mother for damaging her precious heirloom china and focused his gaze on her.

"Yes, Mother. My tuxedo is in the last stages of alteration," he answered simply.

"Tuxedo? As in… Muggle clothes?" she questioned, sounding mildly startled.

"Yes, Mother," he told her, biting back a sigh. "I thought that it would look much more flattering on me than a robe. Although I do look _quite_ handsome in formal robes... still, it's a matter of preference and I'm partial to suits over robes nowadays."

"I think I'll go make some more tea," Astoria interrupted quickly.

She stood and scampered, much to Narcissa's amusement.

"Did I frighten her?" she whispered, arching a golden eyebrow.

"You certainly looked frightening," Draco snorted.

She frowned at him and sighed.

"What's wrong, Draco?"

He laughed and shrugged his shoulders.

"Does something _have_ to be wrong?"

She observed him with her intuitive deep blue eyes while Draco resisted the urge to fidget once more.

"You're delaying this much more than necessary, son. How many times have you gotten your tuxedo altered?" she asked in a much softer voice.

Draco glanced at the doorway, expecting Astoria to come through any second.

"Mummy, I'm only going to get married once. Or so I hope," he smiled cheekily, hoping to take her off his scent. "Everything needs to be perfect and that includes my attire. I realize that day will be all about Astoria but I can't be looking anything less than perfect. For her."

She continued watching him and cocked her head, rubbing the pads of her fingertips against the pad of her thumb.

"My dear, you may be able to fool yourself but you cannot fool me."

Draco's heart hammered in his chest.

_She sees right through me. She always has. Should I… confide in her? Or should I keep this to myself and take it to the grave?_

He swallowed back the lump that formed in his throat and opened his mouth to respond when Astoria breezed through the doorway, teapot in hand.

Narcissa eyed him beadily and he knew this wasn't a conversation he could get out of.

"You're too thoughtful, dearest. You _do_ know you're a witch, right?" she asked Astoria playfully.

Her lovely face burned crimson as she refilled Draco and Narcissa's teacups.

"I find the act of making tea soothing," she smiled, refilling her teacup last.

Narcissa nodded, looking oddly impressed.

"Anyway, we're all just waiting on Draco's suit," she chirped. "He hasn't allowed me to see it but I just _know_ he's going to look devastatingly handsome."

"Darling, I look handsome in everything," he winked at his fiancée.

Narcissa rolled her eyes and Draco smirked at his mother.

"Of course, there's one last detail…" Astoria trailed off, a look of apprehension dawning all over her face.

"Oh?" Narcissa asked, setting her teacup down.

"Well, I had initially hoped to keep it as a surprise – a wedding surprise – but I just can't keep it to myself anymore. I'm just not sure how well it's going to go over with the guests…"

"What is it?" Draco asked despite himself, curiosity piqued.

She offered both Malfoys a smile before entwining her fingers together.

"I had spoken to Kingsley Shacklebolt about receiving a special permission to have Mr. Malfoy attend the wedding. Under heavy guard and supervision, of course," she added quickly, as if it somehow changed things.

Draco stared at her, a mix of revulsion and fury welling up in him.

"Well, that's… considerate of you, dear," Narcissa said weakly.

Draco gave his mother a glare before turning to scowl at Astoria.

"And you were going to tell me this _when_?" he hissed at her.

Her face went pale before offering him a hesitant smile.

"I had wanted it to be a surprise, Draco. I know how things are between you and your father and I just thought—"

"That it would be prudent of you to _meddle_?" he burst, standing up and hovering over her.

"Draco, I think—"

"That this is, quite frankly, none of your business," Draco snapped at her.

"Stop cutting me off!" she stood, glaring at her fiancé.

"Stop making choices behind my back!" he countered.

"Draco, I'm going to be a Malfoy soon too. Don't you think it's time to move on and forgive? I'd like to have him in my life too, no matter what offenses he committed," Astoria told him solemnly.

Draco's mouth hung open as the worst of names and insults swam through his head. He finally straightened his posture before sneering at Astoria.

"If you so desire, why don't you marry _him_ instead?" he seethed, realizing but not quite caring how childish he sounded.

Astoria gasped, her green eyes growing wide until he thought they could round no more.

"I never thought…" she whispered, eyes filling with tears.

"Yeah, well you thought wrong, didn't you? You knew precisely who you were marrying, didn't you Astoria? So why the shock? You knew how much of a bastard I could be back in the day. Did you really think I'd changed?" he mocked, crossing his arms.

Her mouth hung open at his cruel words and she stood frozen before him. She finally took a deep breath and shook her honeyed mane of hair back.

"Maybe we need some time away to cool our heads," she spoke quietly, avoiding eye contact with Draco and his mother.

But before either could answer, she turned and Disapparated on the spot.

"SOD IT!" Draco shouted, kicking back the cream chair he had been sitting on earlier.

He roared and spat, bellowing curses at the heavens and kicking things over until he felt himself start to run out of anger. He stood once more, grabbed the lapels of his coat and straightened them before running his hands through his hair and pushing it out of his face.

"Had enough, have you dear?"

His mother's voice startled him. Draco had felt so enraged that he'd forgotten she was even in the room. He turned to her and offered a semblance of an apologetic smile.

"I got carried away," he whispered, taking a deep breath. "I apologize, I'll mend everything…"

"You can do that later. Sit down, Draco," she told him.

He nodded jerkily and flipped the chair over, sitting down with as much dignity as he could muster.

Narcissa watched him quietly, flicking her wand thoughtlessly at her teacup so that the tea would warm again.

"Lucius and I should have taught you better than to throw tantrums. Mind you, it wasn't on purpose but Circe knows that it taught you that it was the easiest way for you to get your way," she mused, stirring her tea absently.

Draco stared at her acidly, crossing his arms tightly across his chest.

"While I understand _why_ you're upset at Astoria, you really shouldn't have lashed out at her that way, Draco," she scolded gently.

"She _hid_ the fact that she wanted him to attend our bloody wedding, Mother. She just as good lied to me!"

"I know darling and as despicable it sounds to you, think of the reason _why_ she did it," she reminded him tenderly.

"She wants us to mend our relationship," Draco rolled his eyes.

"That... and she loves you."

Draco squirmed in his seat.

"Do you love her?"

He opened his mouth to reply but found he couldn't really answer without sounding like a bastard, so he closed his mouth and swallowed heavily.

His mother gave him a knowing little smile and took a dainty sip of tea.

"She's intelligent, beautiful, accomplished and comes from a wonderful family."

"I don't care about that!" he scowled, looking utterly offended.

"Of course, Draco. There are many more important things than blood. Such as the fact that she has a wonderful heart and looks at you with a love-struck smile on her face, it's quite endearing actually," she smiled. "Not only that, but as good of heart she has, she also has a spine and is quite willing to defend herself; she isn't anybody's doormat."

Draco nodded, feeling a sort of grudging respect towards his fiancée.

"But despite all that, you don't love her. Why is that?"

_I could lie to her, I could cover my feelings up. But what good would that do?_

"I love someone else," he whispered, surprising himself.

_Merlin's saggy pants… I love her._

"I figured that was the case," she sighed, setting her teacup down. "Tell me, who is the young woman with whom you're in love with?"

"Her name is… her name is… Hermione. Hermione Granger. You've met," he added dryly.

She looked thoughtful for a long moment before nodding her head.

"Under the worst circumstances possible," she admitted, looking genuinely contrite.

"I didn't even know I was in love with her until now," he confessed, grimacing to himself.

"Why is that?"

"As you know, I was a pompous shit to her when we attended Hogwarts. I belittled her at every possible opportunity yet she always took my insults in stride; no matter how cruel my words, they never seemed to faze her. Well, not including the first time I called her a... a _Mudblood_," he cringed, swallowing thickly. "The Fates seem to have an interesting, mildly sadistic sense of humor because not long after running into her at Flourish and Blott's, she became my boss. She's my boss and she's engaged to Ronald Weasley, the _biggest_ sodding arsehole ever. It's obvious she loves him, yes, but it's not the type of love she ought to have for the man she's about to marry. Maybe she doesn't realize it or maybe she simply doesn't _want_ to... although I'm inclined to believe she's in denial. It's also obvious they're not right for each other. They have nothing in common! Even back in school I thought she was far too good for the likes of him and you know my opinion of her wasn't too high. But I digress... I'm not sure what keeps them together now but coming to know her and her big heart, it's because she's unsure of herself."

Narcissa quirked her brow curiously at her son's torrid speech.

"She's brilliant, Mother. She truly is. I know I whinged and sulked endlessly about her having better marks than me in school but it was unfair of me to complain and demean as I did. Not only that, but she's compassionate and strong and… amazing," he breathed out, picturing her smiling face for a moment. "She works hard and gets results but she does so fairly, never lording over anybody or even commanding with an iron first. She does this thing when she reads – I'm sure even she's not aware she does it – and she mouths along; it's _so _bloody endearing. There are also times when she's trying to concentrate and she pokes the tip of her tongue from the corner of her mouth… oh, it slays me."

Narcissa watched Draco with a growing smile, shaking her head slightly.

"What is it? Why are you shaking your head?" he asked, dropping his hands to his lap.

"Because it's clear as day that you're in love with Ms. Granger, son."

Draco swallowed heavily and nodded his head slowly.

"I am in love with Hermione Granger," he spoke softly, almost to himself.

"Does she know?"

"Oh, Merlin no," he answered, shaking his head vehemently. "Although…"

"What happened?"

"Well, it happened right after I told her of my engagement… I might have let slip that I wouldn't mind getting married to her," he sighed, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.

"That's hardly telling her you love her," she scoffed, rolling her eyes.

Draco snapped his eyes open and glared at his mother.

"What about her? Does she… is she…" Narcissa trailed off, unsure of how to phrase her question.

"No, she doesn't," he replied quietly.

"You sound sure, son. Did you ever _ask_ her?"

"Merlin's saggy… no, Mother!"

"Then why are you so sure that she doesn't?"

He chuckled humorlessly and looked at Narcissa.

"Come on… someone as brilliant and wonderful as her would never have eyes or give her heart to someone like me," he stated derisively.

"And why not? You're a—"

"Please don't say 'Malfoy'," he warned through gritted teeth.

"You _are_ a Malfoy but that wasn't what I was going to say. You're very brilliant yourself, son. You're devastatingly handsome and you're a hard worker. You may have had a… skewed personality when you were younger, but you have most certainly bloomed into a wonderful man. I started to see the change long after your trial but now… it's more than obvious you're a changed man, for the better. Is it her?" she asked knowingly.

"Probably… yes. I just want to do right by her, Mother. I want to watch her face light up when she wins and saves creatures, one case at a time. More importantly, I want to be by her side, to be the one she goes to…"

"Oh, my son… you love her. I'm so proud of you," she told him before standing and going to him.

He looked up at her, startled to see her outline gone hazy. He felt her tender fingers brush something away from his cheeks when he realized he was crying.

_Is it true? Am I really crying? Good god… are kneazles flying somewhere?_

"My advice to you, dearest Draco, is that you tell her. Tell her before it's too late. Your love may not be so one-sided as you think," she smiled, a motherly twinkle in her eye. "But you must speak to Astoria first. No matter how attracted you are to her… your heart belongs to another and she deserves far better than that."

Draco nodded, relishing his mother's warm touch.

"What if she rejects me?" he croaked pathetically.

"At least you'll get to live the rest of your life knowing that you tried."

"But…"

"But _nothing_, Draco. Could you let her get married and not know whether she returns your sentiment? Now, imagine if she did and you let her get away simply because you were afraid… could you live like that?"

"No, it'd be terrible," he whispered gruffly, his heart aching at the very thought.

She sighed and nodded.

"Looks like there's hope for you yet," she smiled, leaning down to press a kiss on his cheek.

_Oh, Merlin… I can only hope so._

"Good luck, my son. Tell me how it goes. After the excitement from earlier I'm in need of a nap. Also, don't forget to clean up your mess," she smirked, walking away.

Draco watched her, a small quirking the corners of his lips.

_So that's who I get it from. I may look like a Malfoy, but I'm most definitely a Black at heart._

* * *

Thanks for reading, ya'll! Have a magnificent hump day. :)


	13. Chapter 13

A big thank you to everybody's who's taken the time to review. It truly means a lot to me to see what you're thoughts are on the story so far. :) Also, thank you for following and putting the story under your favorites!

Without further ado...

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

Hermione briskly unpacked the salad she'd packed in the morning, half-distracted as she looked over the final draft of her newest coalition group for house-elves.

_I can't believe it's taken so long for this particular document to see the light. Maybe I was afraid of getting told it wasn't good enough… or perhaps I wanted this to be the last I accomplish before changing departments. Sigh. As if work hasn't been keeping me busy enough, Molly and Fleur have been badgering me non-stop about the wedding. I'd told them that I left every detail in their hands, did I not? That I trust their decisions blindly; so what are they coming to me for? Sweet Merlin, if I hear one more utterance of 'sweetheart neckline' or 'scalloped veil' I am going to pitch myself from the highest tower at Hogwarts. But I digress, I think this particular draft will be the paving stone to the better treatment of magical creatures in general. Hmm… when had I been told it was due? Was it Friday? Blast it, I have so much going through my head that I can't even remember a bloody date. I bet Malfoy knows, I make him write every single thing down._

"Malfoy!" she called out, sticking a fork into her salad and looking down at the draft, pretending to be otherwise immersed in the document.

Truth be told, things hadn't been the same between them ever since revealing his engagement to Astoria Greengrass to her. Malfoy had been as efficient and hard-working as always, but a cloud of uncertainty and awkwardness hung in the air when they were together. The fact that he'd told her he wouldn't mind marrying her still nagged at her, no matter how hard she tried to push the memory away; but the way his quicksilver eyes smoldered was an image she couldn't easily get out of her mind.

The easy friendship they'd managed to form before getting engaged was lost, their banter a memory as if from another life. Nowadays he only seemed to respond to her when spoken to and it bothered Hermione greatly. Consequently, he excused himself from any after-work drinks, stating he had something or other to look over. Hermione, however, was more than sure that he lied since firstly: Malfoy hardly ever took work home because secondly: he always finished everything at work.

"Yes, Granger?" he asked, voice unusually soft.

She felt herself jump slightly although she knew she had no good reason to, _she_ was the one who called _him_, for crying out loud. She dragged her eyes from the document and peered up at him as casually as possible.

He stood standing in the doorway, not even having bothered stepping into her office. Somehow, that managed to rub Hermione the wrong way.

"When's this due?" she asked, nodding toward the document on her desk with her chin.

"Two days from now. Friday at 5," he answered ever so efficiently without even looking at what she was referring to.

"Right, thanks. I don't know what's gotten into me," she murmured, picking up a quill and scrawling the date on the small notepad sitting on her desk.

She was half-hoping he would say _something. _At this point, she would even have welcomed one of his smart-arse remarks. But there was only silence from the doorway. Sighing inwardly, she went as far as to circle what she had just written just to have something to do.

"Well?" he asked, a hint of amusement laced in his voice.

"Well _what_?"

A corner of his lip twitched but otherwise remained with an impassive look on his face.

"Was that all?"

"Oh, yes. I'm so sorry. You're free to go to lunch now," she said, shaking her head to herself.

Still, he remained in his spot.

"Is… everything alright, Granger? It's not like you to forget the due date of such an important document," he asked, unclasping his hands from behind his back.

She felt her face warm as a soft chuckle escaped her lips.

"That obvious, huh?"

"A little bit," he acquiesced, stepping into her office hesitantly.

"I just feel like my brain's being overrun at the moment," she confessed, looking up into those bright silver eyes of his.

"That's understandable," he nodded. "You're only human, after all."

Hermione laughed softly.

"Looks like I am, even if I was dubbed the brightest witch of our age."

"But you _are_," he told her quietly.

Hermione felt a warm flush spread from her chest to her face and she found that she couldn't quite look Draco in the eye.

_He's here and talking to you, the least you could do it make eye contact you ingrate!_

She looked shyly up at him and noticed the dark circles that had started to bloom under his eyes. Hermione felt herself frown worriedly.

_Is he not sleeping well? Or is it another matter entirely? Could it be that he too, is being overrun with thoughts of work and wedding planning?_

"How are you, Malfoy?"

He looked rather taken aback by her question and she chided herself inwardly for not asking him how he's doing often enough.

"I'm good," he answered, much too rapidly for her taste.

Still, something in his silver eyes betrayed another emotion that she couldn't quite name.

"Good, good. How's your—"

"Hermione!"

She turned to the door and saw Molly, Fleur and Ginny advancing towards her, arms laden with what looked like albums and fabric swatches. She groaned internally but forced a smile on her face as they stood before her desk.

"I'm _so_ sorry, Ms. Granger. I told them you were—" Olivia told her, coming to stand next to Draco.

"No worries, Liv. They're family, after all," Hermione heard herself answer through thin lips. "You may go and take your lunch."

"Thank you!" Olivia sighed, turning to look at the Weasley women one last time before scampering out of the office.

"Well, I'm off for lunch too," Draco stated in a subdued voice, not wanting to catch the eye of Hermione's visitors.

"Oh, my! Draco Malfoy," Molly said, turning her attention to him.

Hermione watched as his face tightened ever so slightly at being addressed, but turned to face the Weasley matriarch all the same.

"Hello Mrs. Weasley. How do you do?" he asked her, polite as ever.

"I'm… surprised, quite honestly. I didn't know you worked for Hermione."

"No, he works _with_ me, Molly," Hermione corrected her, hoping to get Draco off the hook.

"No, Mrs. Weasley is quite right, Granger. I'm her assistant," he said, giving the women a very un-Malfoyish ambivalent smile.

"For how long has this been going on? How come you didn't tell us, Hermione?" Molly questioned, a shadow of accusation in her voice.

Hermione straightened her posture and could barely contain the iciness in her voice as she regarded her future mother-in-law.

"About six months, actually. Malfoy here is truly the best colleague one could have," Hermione told them, flashing him a warm smile. "Although I'm not really sure why there would be a reason for me to explain you of all the goings-on of my job, I would think they would bore you to tears. Perhaps I got the wrong impression that one time I indulged a case that was close to my heart but you immediately changed the conversation to that evening's dinner. But I digress... I don't think you'd be interested to know what happens here with all the wedding planning you'd offered to do."

The room was struck with uncomfortable silence, which had Hermione regretting her tone right away.

"Malfoy, please take an extra thirty minutes for your lunch. I'm so sorry. Go enjoy," she nodded, turning her face to him despite not breaking eye contact with Molly.

She felt him stare at her for a moment before turning on his heel, his pristine black robes fluttering around his ankles.

"So, to what do I owe this pleasure to?" Hermione smiled as pleasantly as she could at Molly.

"We just… we came for you to look over cakes and fabric for your dress," Molly answered rather feebly, her brown eyes still wide at Hermione's earlier tone.

"I'm sorry, Molly, but could we leave this until Saturday? I'm incredibly busy and—"

"I'm sorry dearest, but the dressmaker is _demanding_ that you choose a fabric. After all, the wedding is in _one_ month."

Hermione felt a cold shiver pass through her body and forced herself to slap on a genial expression on her face.

"I am well aware, Molly but I'm sure it can _all_ wait until Saturday."

"Hermione, you must choose a cake at the very least," Molly insisted, holding out what looked like a photo album at her.

"Molly eez right, 'ermione. We 'ad booked Maurice een advance and 'es eeger to start on ze cake," Fleur chirped, tossing her gossamer hair behind her shoulder. "But 'e cannot start if ze bride 'as not made up 'er mind."

"Something sugar-free, then."

Two pairs of brown eyes and a pair of blue gawked at her in horror.

"What? My parents were dentists," she shrugged coolly, secretly entertained at their horror-struck faces.

"Hermione dear, do be sensitive…"

"Molly, I recall handing all wedding planning reigns over to you because you _promised _to take care of everything. Tell me, what is _so_ difficult about choosing the proper cake or the right fabric for my dress? I trust you know my tastes and as much as I appreciate you wanting my input, I am extremely busy with a document that will pave way to a better treatment for _all_ magical creatu—"

But Molly seemed to have none of it.

"Hermione, _really_! Now you're just being selfish! I _know_ how important work is to you, really I do, but this is your _wedding_," the Weasley matriarch spoke heatedly.

"Mum, stop… maybe we should come back another time," Ginny suggested quietly.

"No, besides, this is her lunch hour. We're here and putting it off until another day just won't—"

Hermione loved Molly, really she did. But she was on the verge of going cross-eyed with annoyance and frustration. Soon, she would reach a boiling point – something Hermione had been trying to avoid – and it wouldn't be pretty. She felt her red-hot anger rising like in those Muggle cartoons where the face of the caricature would grow red until smoke came out of their ears, emitting a whistling noise.

"Besides, you're not even going to be working in this department after your wedding, dear!" Molly insisted in what she obviously deemed her sensible tone.

"Fine! Give me that bloody book," Hermione snapped.

She relished the look of shock on their faces as Molly meekly handed over the book. Hermione practically snatched it out of her grip and turned to a random page before pointing to a random cake.

"That one."

"But—"

Hermione narrowed her eyes at Fleur, who had the sense to shut her mouth.

"This cake will be served at the wedding," she told them with a tone of finality.

"'ere are ze fabric swatches," Fleur told her timidly, stretching out her arm to hand over the swathes of material to Hermione.

"_Merci_," Hermione answered as politely as ever.

Fleur nodded uncertainly and murmured a response in French.

Hermione placed the different swatches on her desk, her salad long forgotten. Taking a deep breath she stared at each swath of fabric, occasionally taking one in her hand and rubbing the fabric between her fingers in thought.

"This one," Hermione decided, waving the winner in her hand.

"Ooh, tres bien! Zat is ze best fabric you could 'ave chosen! Eet's going to bee eemported from Fra—"

"_Oui, oui_," Hermione told her dismissively, wanting nothing else but peace and quiet. "Is that it?"

The three women traded nervous glances and swallowed nervously.

"Well, there is the matter about the invitations," Molly spoke up timidly.

"Invitations? Have they not been sent out?" Hermione frowned, leaning forward.

"Well, they have but—"

Hermione shook her head with so forcefully that her bun became undone.

"Molly, I leave all of that in your capable hands," she told her evenly, feeling her temper begin to rise yet again.

"But it's _your_ wedding, dea—"

"I DON'T GIVE A DAMN ABOUT THE BLOODY WEDDING!" Hermione exploded, shooting up to her feet.

The room got so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

"I… I'm sorry," Hermione whispered, feeling both embarrassed and aggravated. "I care. I _care_. Just… just… not now when I'm on the brink of something dear to my heart."

"Right... well, we obviously came by at the wrong time," Molly spoke tightly, clearing her throat.

_That's what I'd been trying to tell you before, woman!_

Hermione nodded wordlessly, looking down at her desk.

"Well, we'll get out of your hair. Mum, Fleur… allons-y," Ginny murmured. "Later Mione."

Hermione waved her hand without looking up at them.

"I do hope your parents can make it, Fleur," she added, unable to hold back a smirk.

She, in turn, stiffened her posture and murmured 'oui' before scurrying out of Hermione's office.

After closing the door behind them, Hermione felt weak in the knees and toppled down into her chair. She dropped her head into her hands and breathed in deeply before exhaling loudly.

_Things just went from bad to worse to hellish. So that's where Ron gets his stubbornness from. There is __**no**__ way he won't be getting word of this. If only she'd listened to me when I told her this wasn't a good time but __**no**__, she just had to plow on as if this wedding were the most important thing in the wizarding world. _

That thought left Hermione's blood run cold.

_Surely… that's no way for a soon-to-be bride to be thinking. It must be the nerves. Yes, it's the nerves. It has nothing to do with…_

Hermione straightened up and glanced at the closed door that connected her to Malfoy's office.

_I love Ron. I've loved him since I was a girl and I'm going to have the chance to spend the rest of my life with him. It's not every day that a girl can marry her childhood sweetheart… of course, it was one-sided for a long time. But I digress. I love Ron and I'm going to marry him… shouldn't I feel like the luckiest woman in the world?_

The thought only left her panicked, which broke her out in cold sweat.

_It's just stress. Yes, it's just stress. I bet all this will pass as soon as I send this document in…_

With that, Hermione straightened her suit and ignored the way her stomach churned. Just when she was about to turn back to the document on her desk (which escaped unscathed), there was a soft knock on the door that adjoined hers and Malfoy's offices.

"Granger? May I come in?"

His voice sounded muffled through the door but even so, her ears had never been so relieved to hear such sweet sound.

* * *

Coming up next: Draco and Hermione chat.

Thanks for reading, ya'll! Have a wonderful weekend. :)


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: I own nothin'.

* * *

Draco sat immobilized in his chair, unsure of whether to burst out laughing or cringe uncomfortably at Hermione's outburst.

_You didn't behave any better with Astoria_, a voice nagged at the back of his head.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath before rising in a fluid motion. He stood before the closed door and straightened the lapel of his robes nervously, raised his hand and knocked.

"Granger? Are you alright?"

No answer.

"Granger? May I come in?" he asked, gentler still.

Still nothing.

_Sod it._

He gripped the doorknob and turned it, chiding himself internally as he felt his heartbeat thud nervously against his ribs.

_You're a Malfoy, for Merlin's sake. Budge up and be a man. She won't bite… at least not the way you'd want._

He smirked and managed to smother his expression once he stepped into her office. She was hunched over her desk with her face in her hands but otherwise quite still.

"Granger?" he asked her softly.

He stepped closer and observed that she was breathing, to his immense relief.

"_Granger_," he said in a singsong voice.

Draco wasn't exactly focused where he was going and let out a soft _oof!_ when he walked into the sharp corner of her desk.

"Mrbkhsgh asgflh," she murmured.

"Er, come again? I didn't quite catch that," Draco said, craning his neck to listen closer.

She drew her hands from her face and took a deep breath before looking up at him.

"I said 'my life is over'."

Draco couldn't help himself and scoffed. She narrowed her still-bright eyes at him, daring him to contradict her.

"Granger, you're hardly the first or last woman to blow up over wedding details," he told her frankly.

She bit her lip and blushed, looking down at her lap.

"You heard that, huh?"

"I'm pretty sure the floor below _and_ above us heard you," Draco commented, crossing his arms.

She squirmed in her chair before looking up at him.

"Was it terrible of me?" she whispered, looking at him with pleading eyes.

Draco felt the urge to fidget under her blazing gaze but held himself still.

"A bit. But certainly not _unreasonable_," he assured her hastily, taking a seat in one of her chairs.

She let out a breath of air and screwed her eyes shut.

"I can't believe I went off on her like that," she murmured, shaking her head. "I didn't think I would lose my cool like that. Now I know where Ronald gets his stubbornness from."

"After having your wrath directed at me for many years, I can assure you that she _will_ get over it," he told her, chuckling.

Hermione opened her eyes and gave him a look full of pure disbelief.

"Yes, but the difference is that Molly was just trying to be helpful while _you_ were being a little tosser," she glared at him.

_Is it me, or are her lips trying to curve upward? For fuck's sake… calm down, Malfoy. It's just a bloody smile._

Or so he tried to tell himself.

"Because _you_ were a grating know-it-all," he shrugged easily, sitting back on the chair elegantly.

Her brown eyes watched his shoulders for a moment before they focused down to her desk.

"I know what I was. That's the very reason I was who I was. Or am."

Draco leaned forward slightly, interested.

"Explain?"

Hermione's eyes flickered up and met his, sighing inaudibly.

"I was always bookish, even back in primary school. It started with my passion for reading," she smiled. "But apparently, liking books was not the way to make friends. Or keep them, for that matter. I was taunted and mocked mercilessly for having top grades and raising my hand to answer every question."

"Sounds familiar," Draco murmured under his breath.

She shot him a look and pushed her hair over her shoulders.

"One of the reasons that was so was because I had no friends. Having nothing else to do, nobody to play with… I resorted to memorizing every book from cover to cover. Friday nights were the worst," she spoke with a faraway look in her eyes. "I could _hear_ them playing and not _once_ did they ask me to join. Somehow I managed to convince myself that knowledge was always better than fun because knowledge was bound to take me places."

Draco felt his heart ache for little Hermione Granger. Sure, she might have been annoying back in Hogwarts, but nobody deserved to be treated like that.

_You're one to talk, Malfoy. You're one of the people who __**loved**__ harassing her… or have you forgotten the way you tormented her? Tossing insults at her over her looks and intelligence?_

Draco fidgeted uncomfortably in his chair, watching as Hermione composed herself.

"Not even in my dreamiest daydream did I think I would be _chosen_ to attend Hogwarts. I was so nervous that I didn't know what to do with myself! So I immersed myself in the books, part of me still in disbelief that such world existed. A place where I could be my true self and make friends that I would have for life. Of course, once I got there it was like primary school all over again. I could talk about nothing else but books and rules, undoubtedly boring the stuffing out of my peers with bits and bobs I'd read in _Hogwarts, A History_. But then I met two of the most stubborn and rule-breaking boys ever," she grinned with a twinkle in her eye.

Draco felt his stomach clench tortuously and stirred in the chair.

_Is this what jealousy feels like? How… unexpected. Almost like having the air knocked out after getting punched in the gut._

"Yes, yes… we're all aware of what happened after," Draco rolled his eyes. "No need to recap _that_."

"Malfoy, _really_. You and Harry have been… at odds ever since I can remember. What happened?" she asked him, placing her elbows on her desk and leaning forward inquisitively.

Draco could have growled at her but she just stared at him, those dark chocolate eyes of hers watching him patiently.

"Fine," he huffed. "I'd offered Potter my friendship but he turned it down."

Hermione blinked but soon her expression became incredulous.

"Are you _serious_? That's the reason why you and Harry loved to go at it like an old, bitter couple?" she giggled.

Her glared at her and smoothed the front of his robes distractedly.

"We did _not_ behave as such, would you please calm yourself? I blame Potter's rejection on Weasley," he mumbled, narrowing his eyes.

"Ron? Why?"

"Because…" Draco swallowed, looking away embarrassingly. "Because Weasley had the _gall_ to laugh at my name."

In all honesty, Draco had expected for her to laugh or to make a caustic remark but she simply remained quiet. He noticed from the corner of his eye that Hermione's positioned shifted and so he willed himself to man up and look at her.

_Malfoys aren't cowards, damn it. At least not __**all**__ of us._

He almost wished he hadn't.

Her big brown eyes were focused fixedly on him, the corners of her lips downturned and there was a tiny wrinkle between her brows. His heart thudded loudly against his chest but then felt himself go cold. He recognized the expression from back in the day when news of his father's imprisonment had gone viral… or after his own trial after the war.

"I don't need your pity," he hissed, scowling fiercely at her.

_Because if a man doesn't have his pride, then what does he have left?_

She blinked slowly and her rosy lips parted, as though in surprise.

"It's not pity."

"Sure," he scoffed, surprised at the bitter resent flowing through his veins.

"Malfoy, it's _not_ pity," she repeated firmly.

He remained quiet, fully knowing he was being juvenile but what else could he do?

"I know what it's like."

"Of _course_ you do, Granger," he sneered, still refusing to look at her.

"Damn it, Draco. I'm trying to tell you that you're not the only person it's happened to!"

He felt his heart slam into his chest when she called him by his given name. She'd sounded so… passionate, sure and sweet all at the same time. His resent ebbed away only to be replaced by a light, fluttery feeling in his chest.

_How... intimate. I like it._

"Of _all_ the names my parents could have given me, they gave me Hermione. _Hermione!_ No wonder kids didn't want to be my friend, I have the name of an old biddy!" she cackled, running her fingers through her now-wild hair.

Draco couldn't help but smile and forced himself to look at her.

_Don't make her aware that she called you by your name. She probably didn't even realize it. Never have I loved my name as much as I do now._

"I mean, I understand _why_. Naming me after—"

"A character from Shakespeare's play, _A Winter's Tale_," Draco interrupted. "And from Greek mythology. More specifically, the daughter of Menelaus and Helen."

Hermione straightened up and gave him a peculiar look.

"Yes… that's right. How'd you know that?" she queried, a smile forming on her lips.

"I like to dabble in Muggle subjects every now and then," he told her honestly, shrugging.

The smile widened until she was beaming at him.

"Draco! That's… _impressive_. Who would have thought?" she asked, seeming to look at him in a new light.

He smirked and winked at her, causing her to blush but not once did that smile leave her face.

_You're lapping it up, aren't you? When was the last time anybody looked at you, let alone smiled genuinely at you? You better enjoy it while you can, Malfoy. Soon, her smiles will belong to someone else._

"I like to keep busy," he murmured, looking down.

She made a noise of approval and could still feel her bloody smiling at him.

"I liked your name."

He frowned and looked up at her.

"What?"

"I like your name. It sounds very… aristocratic. It rolls off the tongue rather nicely too. Draco. Draco. Dra-co," she smiled, blushing.

Draco felt gobsmacked. For as long as he could recall, he'd received taunting looks once people learned his name followed by murmured apologies after learning his surname. But here was a girl who just confessed to _liking_ it. He really tried to block the part of his brain that was telling him to imagine her saying it to him in a sensual husky voice… or in an exhilarated higher octave.

_Stop, Malfoy. Don't even go there… no matter how tempting it may be._

"I like your name too," he cleared his throat, shifting his legs uneasily.

She quirked a brow up but doesn't respond, giving him a bright smile instead.

They remained comfortably silent and Draco took his time to look her over.

_Her hair! I haven't seen those unruly curls in years. To think one could be capable of missing such a thing. It always amused me to watch her hair get curlier and curlier in Potions. Merlin, I'd forgotten I'd even made a pastime of it. She'd always arrive relatively groomed and I'd count the minutes it took to achieve maximum volume. I believe the record was five minutes and it was never broken again. Thank Merlin for those fumes._

"We really deviated from the original topic."

Her voice snapped him out of his musings.

"We sure did," he agreed, nodding.

She leaned forward, pressing the hilt of her hand against her forehead and sighed.

"I'm such an undeserving bitch," she breathed out.

Draco actually gasped.

"_Hermione_," he reprimanded, sitting up in the chair.

"What? It's true! Molly has got to be the most loving woman and here I am, screaming at her because she has the _nerve_ to involve me in my wedding planning," she scowled. "Besides, like _you_ never called me that in your head."

Draco felt himself blush and wriggled in the chair awkwardly.

"See."

"That was years ago! Honestly."

She sighed loudly and shrugged her shoulders.

"Doesn't matter _now_."

"I'm sorry, Hermione."

"What for? It's not your fault I went mental."

"I'm sorry for behaving so atrociously and for bullying you mercilessly," he told her breathlessly.

She froze and Draco began to grow impatient, so he reached over and tugged on her arm, forcing her to look at him. He couldn't deny how deliciously soft her skin felt beneath his fingers and he also couldn't ignore the jolt that flowed from his hand to the rest of his body upon touching her.

He looked up into her eyes to see them staring at him as though he were a stranger.

"I was a bastard... although it could be argued I still am now," he murmured under his breath. "But I digress. I don't _deserve_ nor am I expecting your forgiveness, but I just had to do it. Because I truly am sorry. We might've not been friends either way, but it was enormously unjust of me to go after you the way I did. I… envied you and there was not one thing I could do about it other than the _one_ thing I knew how to do. I'm not sure if you noticed, but you were the only Muggleborn I ever went after."

Something flickered back to life in her face because her expression softened.

"I understand, Draco, and I forgive you."

"Please don't say that," he groaned, closing his eyes.

"What?"

"You're just saying it because you're such a _bloody_ kind person," he grunted.

"Am not! I'm saying it because… well…"

He opened his eyes, grim satisfaction written all over his face.

"See!"

She glowered at him and pursed her lips in thought, an action he'd seen her do for many years.

_Hmm… some things are never lost._

"It was wrong of you to do all that and you apologized. I forgave you because it would have been wrong of me to keep on punishing you for despite apologizing... and meaning it. So we're even," she smiled brightly. "Not to mention that I just want to put it _all_ where it belongs... in the past. We're relatively different people now. Hell, we've even managed to form some sort of friendship, am I right? You've changed, Draco. Because of that change, I forgive you."

Draco stared at her in disbelief.

_There is nothing you can't solve, is there Hermione?_

She blushed and looked down in embarrassment and that's when Draco realized he'd said that out loud.

_Damn it. Keep your thoughts in your head, Malfoy!_

"You're so… reasonable."

Here she glared at him.

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

He was about to make a snappy retort when her gaze landed on his hand, which was still gripping her wrist. Draco felt his heart make an attempt to jump out of his throat and quickly released it, already missing the warmth and silkiness of her skin.

"Sorry," he said under his breath.

She shook her head jerkily, cheeks turning a pretty pink.

He, in turn, avoided eye contact with her until his heart settled down.

"So what are you going to do?" he asked her curiously.

"Apologize… and then apologize some more. Maybe offer to cook dinner, although Molly may not take that too kindly since my cooking is less than stellar especially when compared to hers," she smiled sheepishly.

"I _knew_ there had to be something you weren't good at," he barked a laugh.

"Hey now! It's not for a lack of trying. Believe me," she sniffed indignantly.

Draco laughed.

_It feels so good. When was the last time I laughed like this? So freely and… happily? With her, more than likely. She's the only one who makes you feel like this._

"Apologizing should do the trick. Let's just hope she's as impartial as you are when it comes to reasoning," he teased her.

She made a face at him but smiled nonetheless.

"Are you wishing me luck?"

"I am indeed. You're _sorely_ in need of luck. Hey…" he smirked impishly, grey eyes sparkling.

"Hey now," she frowned. "No potions. That wouldn't be fair on my part."

"Yes, that too."

"'Too'?" she cocked her head.

_She looks so endearing that I just want to grasp her in my arms and plant kisses all over her face._

"I'm sure it would _kill_ you buying a potion you could have just as easily made," he grinned.

She burst out laughing.

"You're right… what can I say? I enjoy doing my own wandwork. But it really wouldn't be fair. I deserve a little guilt," she sighed, growing contrite.

"Don't be so hard on yourself, Hermione. You have a good heart and you'd never hurt anybody on purpose… they know that too," he told her seriously.

She gulped and nodded, looking oddly nervous.

_Facing the Weasley matriarch will __**not**__ be easy. But if anybody can get through it, it's her._

He rose up and gave her a little smile.

"Be sure to eat that salad. Poor thing looks like it's about to wilt."

She snickered and started to reach for it when she frowned.

"Hey… you didn't eat, did you?" she eyed him suspiciously.

"Er..."

That little crease appeared between her eyebrows and Draco wanted nothing more than to kiss it away.

"You should take your lunch break. I won't mind."

"Nah, I'll just eat when I get home."

"_Draco._"

"Really, there's no need to fuss. I've gone through worse," he smiled wryly. "_Eat_, Hermione. You'll need your strength for the arse kissing that's scheduled for you later."

Despite his crude words, an emotion that Draco couldn't identify crossed her face; it did, however, cause a fluttery feeling in his stomach.

She nodded and started to tuck into her salad.

"Thanks, Draco."

"You're welcome, boss," he told her, giving her a salute and walked back to his office.

Once in the safety of his office, he all but swooned into his chair.

_I can only hope she'll let me continue calling her by her name. Maybe if I don't bring it up… after all, there are only so many things I can selfishly keep. If not her, at the very least the thrill of calling her by her name._

* * *

Thanks for taking the time to read! Have a wonderful Monday. :)


	15. Chapter 15

Apologizing in advance for Hermione's (continued) state of denial. It's ending soon, I promise.

Disclaimer: I still own nothing.

* * *

Hermione stepped out of her fireplace, bone tired and with her nerves feeling raw.

_As I predicted, it was not easy but Molly was surprisingly empathetic. Ronald, on the other hand… of course, I deserve it. I was offensive and… demeaning to Molly, who's been nothing but welcoming and kind to me ever since meeting years ago._

Hermione collapsed on her couch, draping an arm over her eyes and sighed heavily.

_I meant my apology… so why do I still feel like undeserving scum? Possibly because Molly went too easy on me. I'll never forget the look in Ron's eyes… there has been only another instance when his eyes have flashed like blue fire and even then he was under the influence of an artifact containing Dark Magic. I hurt the woman he loves most…_

Something in Hermione's brain clicked, causing her to sit up straight and stare into the dark depths of her apartment.

"When was the last time Ron told you that he loves you?" she whispered to herself, frowning.

She wracked her brain until it found an answer: the day he proposed.

_But that was months ago… surely my memory must be faulty…_

Bitter coldness swept through her body, causing her to wrap her arms around herself.

"_How would __**you **like__it if I blew up at __**your**__ mum, Hermione?" he raged at her, tossing his arms up in the air._

She shook her head, tears stinging her eyes.

"_She has treated you like a daughter and yet you __**dare**__ to raise your voice at her?" he hissed, eyes sparkling callously. "You are nothing but an ingrate!"_

"There was no way of defending myself… not that I would have tried. I deserved it," she shook her head and pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her forehead against them.

"_I never thought I'd see this side of you, Hermione. Quite frankly, I'm appalled and disappointed in you," he hissed, breathing like a winded amateur runner. "I see the nasty side effects of hiring Malfoy have finally come to light."_

"He could scream and insult me all he wanted, but it was most unfair to drag Draco into our argument," Hermione reasoned, hugging her knees tightly.

"_Don't __**you**__ dare bring him up, Weasley!" she snapped._

"_Oh, I'm Weasley now, am I?" he sneered, the action worthy of the Malfoy man himself._

"_He has nothing to do with this! Why are you so unrelenting with dragging him into every blessed argument we have?" she fumed._

"_Because he's rubbing off on you, Hermione! He pretends to be oh-so affable and hardworking, but you don't see what we __**all**__ do!" he yelled, running his fingers in frustration through the ginger mop that was his hair._

"_Oh, praytell, what is it that you all see but I'm __**so**__ vastly oblivious to?" she shouted back._

"_Don't you remember how he used to terrorize you back in Hogwarts? Do you remember the first time he called you that nasty word? Well, I do and I'm never going to forget. Ever since he skipped out on us in that midnight duel I stopped believing anything the git said. As the years passed, his behavior became even more questionable and seedier, leading up the year he almost succeeded in killing Dumbledore!" he exploded, freckles disappearing behind the angry blush that appeared on his face. "He was a sodding Death Eater, for the love of Flammel! His father was one too and his mentally unstable aunt desecrated your arm!"_

Hermione had honestly never seen Ron so disturbed and disgusted. But she knew she would never be able to forget the expression on his face after she answered.

"_The war has changed us all, Ron; it's inevitable. But if you truly believe he's still the same little arsehole, then you really **are** the dimwit he's always proclaimed you to be."_

_He looked like a man possessed. Perhaps I was a little harsher than I should have been but how else could she get him to see how blind he was being? He was still holding on to that ridiculous childhood grudge and it's high time for him to let it go._

"_Get out," he breathed at her, avoiding looking at her. "Get out before I say something I regret."_

Hermione hadn't needed to be told twice, so she tossed Floo into The Burrow's fireplace and let herself be sucked back to her house.

_I thought he'd gotten over all of his childhood insecurities… so why is he suddenly being an arse? Men…_

Hermione pulled herself up and headed toward her bedroom.

_Merlin, I'm __**exhausted.**_

She tucked herself in bed, curled up on her side and fell into deep slumber. By some blessed miracle, Hermione managed to drag herself out of bed the next morning and showered before getting dressed to go to work.

Once there, she made a little cocoon of warmth with her arms and buried her face. Despite sleeping fully, she still felt restless and heavy.

"Hermione?"

His voice sent a warm feeling down her spine.

"Good lord, they didn't kill you and bring your lifeless body to show that the Weasley's aren't people to be reckoned with, did they?"

Despite his ludicrous words, she couldn't help but giggle.

"Ah, nope. Still very much alive. Care for some tea?"

She sat up and groaned, hunching her shoulders over.

"I think I need something a little stronger today," she admitted, looking up at him.

As ridiculous as it sounded, looking at him felt like taking a breath of fresh air to Hermione. He raised a pale brow in question, looking at her as though she were out of her mind.

"Did the body snatchers come? My boss would never_, ever _succumb to caffeine," he said, eyeing her suspiciously.

"Don't be daft," she rolled her eyes. "I had a rough night, is all."

"Told you to eat your greens, but did you listen?" he teased her.

"I'm not in the mood to get lectured. Coffee or get out of my office."

His lips twitched and he let out a burst of laughter.

"Coffee coming right up. For Merlin's sake, you _sound_ hungover. But I'm sure you're not the type to do the kind of sinning that requires one to end up in such a state," he smirked, eyes sparkling.

Hermione felt something flutter in her stomach and so she frowned, clapping her hand over it.

_It had nothing to do with the way he looked at me, nope._

He busied himself, flicking his wand almost lazily at the coffeepot when it finished brewing and hesitated as he reached for sugar.

"How _do_ you take your coffee?" he asked, whirling around to look at her.

"Not overly sugary? And with cream. Please," she smiled gratefully at him.

He mumbled something under his breath but Hermione didn't take offense at whatever it could have been and instead watched him prepare her coffee. He finally grabbed hold of the mug and brought it over to her, his eyes never once leaving the surface of the coffee.

"Thank you."

He nodded in response and watched her, something akin to anxiety in those silver eyes of his. She raised the mug to her lips and sipped carefully; it was the perfect temperature. She loved how creamy and smooth it tasted and it wasn't overly sweet, as she'd requested.

"You just won the title for Best Coffee Maker. Congratulations," Hermione joked, drinking more coffee.

He rolled his eyes although a corner of his lips twisted up.

"What an honor," he drawled, sounding a bit like his old self, except that the poisonous tone his voice used to have was now gone.

Hermione felt the coffee warm her from her head to her toes. Although her drink of choice was usually tea, coffee was just was she needed that morning.

Draco looked like he was about to retire to his office but Hermione wasn't quite ready to let him go yet.

"Hang on, I need you to sign some papers for me."

"Sure," he nodded, promptly sitting back down.

She pointed her wand at her desk drawer and murmured the password before it sprang open. She took out a sheaf of papers nestled in a manila folder and handed it over to him.

"All these?" he raised his brow.

"It's for Kingsley."

"Ah, understood."

He lifted his hand as though he were ready to sign and just as the side of his hand touched the papers, his magnificent quill appeared between his fingers. Hermione gawked at him, awestruck at his wandless _and_ non-verbal magic.

_Well, he was always ranked after you. __I'm not really sure if I'm so surprised, though. Malfoy has always been a powerful wizard, even if he didn't always use it for good._

She took this time to observe him. He wore his standard black robes but Hermione could see that he wore a deep navy shirt today, along with a black tie that looked as though it were made out of brocade. For a moment, Hermione wondered what it would feel like if she raised her fingertips and brushed them against it. She felt her face heat up at the thought and looked away guiltily, hearing the tip of his quill scratch against the documents.

She took a tiny sip of coffee before raising her eyes to his face. She felt lucky that he was reading what he was signing (he was most definitely not a stupid man and was always careful what he signed his name to, even if it was for work) because he would have most definitely noticed her ogling him.

She admired his flawless alabaster skin and wondered how many girls would have traded their magic for such perfect skin themselves. He had a graceful and straight nose and briefly wondered if he'd ever worried about breaking it back in his years when playing Quidditch. He possessed sharp cheekbones that could turn models green with envy. His platinum hair shone under the lights, parted and styled attractively to the side. Her eyes wandered to his fair eyebrows, noticing they were a shade or two darker than his own hair and noticed that his eyelashes were darker as well.

_Good god, he has beautiful lashes! Why is it that it's always the men who have the nice ones? They're completely wasted on them. Still, I bet Draco's brush against his cheek when he closes his eyes…_

Before she knew it, his silver eyes were looking into hers.

_Oh, Merlin... I could fall headfirst into those twin pools of mercury. How did I ever think his eyes were a mere grey? There's so much more depth and warmth than one thinks is possible in them._

"Hermione? Earth to Hermione."

_Wait a moment… he called me by my name! Draco just called me Hermione! Hold on… I just referred to him as 'Draco.'_

She stared at him, a queer ardency that had nothing to do with the coffee seeping through her skin.

"Something wrong?" he frowned, a tiny crinkle appearing between his fair brows.

_Is it strange that I don't mind? That it sounds… delightfully intimate? Especially when he says it in that mellifluous voice of his._

"I'm beginning to think you're one bacon sandwich short of a picnic," he snickered, tilting his head and looking at her.

_Snap out of it or else he's going to think something is up._

"I'm fine, thank you very much," she answered wryly.

"Oh, good. Thought I was going have to point my wand at you," he smirked.

"You'll keep your _wand_ away from my fiancée, Malfoy," an outraged voice called out.

Draco rolled his eyes although his smirk grew wider still.

"Oh, goody… the fun has just arrived."

Ron strode in, his face a shade of beet. His teeth were gnashed together and he was staring at Draco with a deadly expression.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy? Aren't you supposed to be working?"

"I'm not the least bit surprised that it would pass your notice, but I _am_ working. Or have you forgotten that Granger here is my boss? _I'm_ not the one barging impertinently into offices in a department I don't work at," Draco retorted, sounding bored.

_How __**does**__ he do that? Remain so cool and unruffled. It's amazing and I've seen him operate that tactic for many years._

"You better watch out, ferret. Step a toe out of the line and I'll have your sodding, pitiful self fired!" he threatened, baring his teeth at Malfoy.

"_Ron!_" Hermione gasped.

He, however, kept his eyes on Malfoy who rose gracefully in a flurry of black robes and stared back at Ron coolly.

_Uh-oh._

"How on earth are you going to manage _that_, Weasley? You're going to ask your pal Potter to pull a few strings for you?" he taunted, cocking his head slightly.

Ron growled and Hermione shot up to her feet, almost knocking her empty mug over.

"Calm down you two," she said, reaching for her wand.

"Perhaps you should tell _him_ to calm down. I'm perfectly calm," he grinned nastily at Ron, whose red face turned redder.

"Draco," she chastised.

A nerve jumped in Ron's jaw but he didn't pay attention to her otherwise.

"I'm going to be watching you, scum," Ron warned.

Draco raised his eyebrows in disbelief, lips twisting into his trademark smirk.

A tiny part of Hermione couldn't help but admire him.

"If you'll please excuse my lack of quaking in my Italian leather shoes," he told him silkily. "But I've been threatened with much worse by people who would give you nightmares for the rest of your bloody life."

A dark look stole over Draco's face and Hermione felt the room go frigid.

_Maybe Ron's right_, a small traitorous part of her thought.

"I've always known you were nothing but a vile, daddy's little boy but that just proves my point to my _fiancée_," Ron hissed triumphantly, snapping his fingers impatiently to catch Hermione's attention.

"I've always known you were nothing but a low-life cretin and this further prove _my_ point. Stop snapping your fingers at her! She's not a dog, you mongrel," Draco snapped, reaching out to bat at Ron's hand.

"Don't you dare touch me!" Ron yelped as he toppled backwards, yanking his hand away from Draco's reach.

"You should be so lucky, Weasley," Draco scoffed, crossing his arms across his broad chest.

"Really now, this is ridiculous. Don't make me cast a barrier between you two," Hermione sighed tiredly, gripping her wand even tighter.

"No need. There are papers that need looking over and owls needing to be sent. I'm going into my office to do my job," he spoke, never taking his steely gaze off Ron.

Ron's lips twisted into a jubilant smile.

"Don't think for a moment you've beat _me_, Weasley. I, unlike you, strive to be a paradigm of efficacy instead of floundering into offices, picking fights and issuing frivolous threats," Draco spoke softly, quicksilver eyes twinkling. "Now… if you'll excuse me. Hermione, you know where I'll be."

He turned on his heel and swaggered away, leaving Ron with a sickened look on his face. He didn't shut the door behind him, which went to show Hermione just how much he distrusted Ron.

Once he was gone, Ron turned to Hermione and leered at her.

"'Hermione'? 'Draco'?" he mocked, screwing his face in repugnance.

_I knew he'd notice._

"Since when did you two get so comfortable around each other?"

"We've been colleagues for a while now, Ron. You may not trust him but I do," she told him tiredly.

"You're making a big mistake, Hermione. You trust him _so _implicitly to the point that it's revolting!"

"That's it! I've had it with you, Ronald. I'm tired of you being so distrustful of me when I've done nothing to show you otherwise! Now, get out. Get out before I make you," she growled, pointing her wand at him.

His eyes widened, his skin going so pale that his freckles became noticeable.

"Now!" she told him sharply.

He nodded his head and stomped out the door, leaving Hermione feeling drained. With a quick flick of her wrist, she shut the door and sank into her chair.

"These men are going to be the end of me," she murmured to herself, eyeing the sliver of space on the doorway between her and Draco's offices.

* * *

Thanks for reading! Have a wonderful day. :)


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

Draco sat himself in the darkest corner of the Leaky Cauldron and ordered the strongest drink available. He slumped forward in his seat and pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing tiredly.

_At least it's over now._

He'd known it wouldn't have been easy and it truly hadn't; Astoria had put up quite a fight but backed down when Draco gave in and confessed to loving Hermione. The look of pure anguish her face was one he knew wouldn't be easy to forget.

_What else could I have told her? I wasn't about to behave like a bastard for the hell of it. Being honest was hurtful enough._

He recalled the way her green eyes widened and the way her chin trembled and groaned inwardly. Draco had never been particularly good at dealing with emotional women, probably due to the fact that his mother had been nothing more than an ice queen during (most of) his life.

The barmaid brought over his drink and gave him a little wink before sauntering off. That would have normally amused Draco but he wanted nothing to do with women at the moment.

He idly wondered if the Leaky Cauldron was a place that would get packed; it was a Saturday night, after all.

_Still, I'm sure there are better bars around here. Perhaps I'd be better off there… or not. I'm sure somebody would make a pitiful attempt to hit on me. Besides, I'm sure Astoria will want to drown her sorrows too, so maybe I'd better off staying here._

He sighed yet again and watched the dim light filter through his drink when he heard the door of the pub open. He had his back to it, so he didn't see who entered but all he heard were girlish giggles. He rolled his eyes and downed the rest of his drink, grimacing and shivering as it burned its way down his esophagus.

_Maybe ten more and I should be good to go._

"Come _on_, Hermione! He looked like he wanted to give you more than his number!" a loud voice giggled.

Draco stiffened and gripped the glass tightly, listening as the group burst into raucous laughter.

_There aren't many women by the name of 'Hermione' in the wizarding world. What could she possibly be doing here…? And with a gaggle of women by the sound of it, no less. _

"Give me a break! You know he only talked to me because I'm Hermione _War Heroine_ Granger," she scoffed, ordering a drink.

"Oh, yeah, it had _nothing_ to do with the way you look," a familiar voice tittered.

_Wait a minute, Red's here too? The plot thickens. But more importantly, how does Hermione look?_

"What's wrong with the way I look?" he heard her ask, picturing her frowning and looking down at herself.

"Nothing, really… aside from the fact that you look like a tasty little morsel," Red told her and he could almost see her grinning salaciously.

_Alright, now I __**have**__ to look._

Draco turned and caught sight of the group of women donning dresses and high heels discretely as possible. He sighed and turned a bit more, hoping to get a look at Hermione. After the group of women ordered shots, they all giggled and Draco couldn't help but roll his eyes.

_So much bloody estrogen. How does she put up with it? _

"Here's to the future Mrs. Ronald Bilius Weasley! May your sex be as riotous as your fights!" he heard the youngest Weasley crow.

The group burst into guffaws and wolf whistles and he could almost picture Hermione's flushed faced, glaring at her soon-to-be sister in law.

A part of Draco couldn't help but feel jealous that he'd never get to be _close_ to her, let alone have sex with Hermione.

_But it's not just about sex, though. I want __**all**__ of her. Her thoughts, her feelings… everything she'll give, I'll greedily take. Merlin, I must love her if I don't want her for a simple shag. Let's be honest, Draco, you've known for a long time that you weren't after her for the sex._

He sighed yet again and quietly ordered another drink. Draco pondered whether he should order a drink for Hermione but abstained from doing so; from the sound of it, she'd been receiving plenty of free drinks earlier.

He heard their group speak (_gossip_) among themselves and heard the littlest Weasley call out to Hermione.

"So, is this everything you've pictured your bachelorette party to be?"

"It is, thank you so much, Ginny," she said and Draco could practically hear her smile. "Although, it's a bit similar to a Muggle one…"

"Ooh… what's missing from turning this into a Muggle bachelorette party?"

"Well…"

He could hear her hesitancy and grinned.

_Oh, this **has** to be good._

"Speak up, woman!" littlest Weasley demanded.

_Hmm… I'm not so sure she's a Weasley anymore, though. Potter-Weasley's too long, though. As is littlest Weasley… Red it is._

She began to explain in softer tones how it was customary to make the bride-to-be wear a (plastic) tiara and some sort of sash and that there were phallic-shaped paraphernalia involved. He heard Red cackle, undoubtedly getting ready to go off search for such things.

"Also… typically there's a man who strips and gives a lap dance to the soon-to-be bride," she told Red in an even quieter tone.

Draco almost choked on his drink and had to thump his chest before it all went down smoothly.

"No way! We _have_ to do that now!" Red giggled boisterously.

"Ginny, no! I don't think Ron would like that very much…"

"Sod him, then! This is _your_ night and if you want half naked men dancing for you, then you shall have half naked men dancing for you!"

The whole pub went quiet and turned to look at them. Draco was shaking, laughing as quietly as he dared in order to avoid being spotted.

_Still… as amusing as it would be, I don't like the sound of that. Why should a stranger get to sensually rub himself against her when there's zero chance of me ever being able to? Seems unfair to me. Alright, maybe I feel that way because I'd be terribly jealous of any man who'd within arm's length of her, period._

"Ginny!" Hermione hissed. "Calm down! Maybe I should cut you off already…"

Red whined and Hermione heaved a sigh.

"Look, I need to go to the loo. I'll be right back… _behave_ yourself," she told her in a motherly tone.

Draco didn't have enough time to snicker at her clear implication when he realized she'd have to pass his table on the way to the loo. He panicked, considering casting a Disillusionment Charm and even a Glamour Charm. However, he heard a pair of heels headed his way before he could even decide and closed his eyes, praying that if he remained quiet and still enough she wouldn't notice him.

"Draco?" she asked, coming to a sudden stop by his side.

He exhaled loudly and opened his eyes slowly. Hermione stared at him with a baffled expression although there was a smile curling around the edge of her lips. Draco gaped at her, taking all of her in. She looked scrumptious indeed. She wore an aubergine hued dress that fit like second skin; it was sleeveless and hit above the knee, showing her smooth and pale olive skin in all its glory. It had two sideways triangle-shaped cut-outs on her chest, above her breasts, but they were separated by a thin strip of material; the neckline of her dress, in turn, had a bit of a high collar.

"Draco?" she repeated, raising an eyebrow.

He swallowed thickly.

"Granger," he told her, trying to sound as blasé possible.

"What are you doing here?" she questioned, crossing her arms under her breasts.

He watched as they got pushed up, jiggling slightly and groaned inwardly.

_Look at her face. Her face!_

"Celebrating," he smiled wryly, raising his empty glass.

The barmaid immediately brought him a fresh drink before giving Hermione a less than pleasant look and stalking off. Hermione snorted and shook her head before focusing on Draco once more.

"What a coincidence... so am I," she told him, eyeing his drink.

He grinned humorlessly.

"I doubt it. By the sound of it, you're celebrating entering marriage while I'm celebrating getting _out _of it," he smirked, feeling intense relief at speaking the words out loud.

Her mouth sprung open and she sat herself down unceremoniously across from him.

"You… what? What happened?" she whispered, leaning forward.

He felt his eyes glance at her chest before focusing on her face once more. She didn't wear much makeup although her eyes looked more made up than usual. It was subtle but very attractive, all in all.

"I broke off my engagement to Astoria," he told her, taking a sip of his drink.

Her eyes stared into his and he felt as though she might have been trying to use Legilimency on him.

"But… why?"

He smirked and gave a little chuckle.

"Because she deserves better," he shrugged.

A little crease appeared between her brows as she stared at him, clearly trying to make sense of his words.

"But—"

"So here I am," he smiled grimly, raising his glass once more.

"Aren't you… sad?" she frowned.

Draco stilled and pursed his lips in thought.

"Should I be?" he shrugged.

Hermione looked mildly outraged for a moment, something Draco found amusing.

"What about her?"

"Her who?" he asked, playing innocent.

"Her… your ex-fiancée… _Astoria_!" she said, practically spitting the name out.

"What about her?" Draco asked, leaning forward and watching her intently.

She blushed at the intensity of his gaze and leaned back, swallowing nervously.

"Stop that! You're going in circles," she groaned, glaring at him.

"Am I confusing the brightest witch of her age?" he smiled gleefully.

She gave him a look before leaning forward slightly again.

"Don't you feel…" she trailed off, thinking of an appropriate word to use.

Draco sighed and finished his drink, setting the glass down louder than expected to snap her out of her reverie. She jumped slightly in her seat and stared unabashedly at him.

"Are you… are you drunk?" he grinned, cocking his head slightly.

Color rose in her cheeks and she stuck her chin out defiantly.

"Am not!"

"Really? You sure look like it," he chuckled, leaning forward.

"I'm just… surprised."

"Why is that?" he asked her, feeling genuinely curious.

She gave him a searching look before looking down at the table, furrowing her brows together.

"I don't understand why you'd break your engagement. She looks… like she would be your perfect pair; physically, I mean. Although I'm sure she'd match your intellect well. Oh, bugger… I _am_ drunk," she groaned, closing her eyes. "By all means, feel free to stop my rambling."

Draco chuckled quietly and watched her, finding her endearing even in her less than sober state.

"It's not very becoming, Granger," he teased her, tutting.

She snapped her eyes open and glared at him before turning to the barmaid and ordering two of whatever Draco had been drinking. She set the drinks on the table, not once looking at Hermione and left.

Hermione raised the glass, motioning for Draco to do the same. He sighed with fake annoyance, lazily lifting his glass and looked expectantly at her.

"To love. May we find it even if we lose it."

Draco hid his smirk and nodded as solemnly as possible, clinking his glass against hers before taking a long drink.

"You know, that made absolutely no sense."

She pooched her bottom lip out, giving him drunken Crup eyes.

"I just meant that we should always be hopeful to find love, even if we've just lost it."

Draco's heart fluttered in his chest and refused to give his feelings away.

"I'm guessing that's directed towards me?" he asked her, cocking his head slightly.

"It's directed toward anybody who wants to find love," she shrugged, taking a dainty sip.

"But what if we've already found it?" he whispered silkily, unable to stop himself from staring at her feverishly.

She seemed to freeze for a moment before swallowing audibly.

"Then you take it and never let it go," she whispered huskily.

Draco repressed a shiver but felt his lips part, exhaling softly.

_She's getting married, you idiot. Cut your losses and go._

"If only some of us were so lucky," he chuckled, shaking his head and looking away.

"I'm confused."

He turned the glass in his hands but glanced up and gave a nod for her to continue.

"I thought… don't you love her?"

_To be honest… or not. _

"I don't. I told you, Hermione, it's rare that purebloods marry for love."

Draco wasn't sure if she was aware of it or not, but she gave a little sigh when he said her name and it sent sparks right to his heart.

She ordered another drink for herself and Draco frowned at her.

"I think you've had enough," he told her firmly.

She pouted and moved her glass out of his reach.

"I have so little chances to have fun and when I finally do, you're the one being all adult-like and responsible," she whined adorably.

Draco laughed softly and nodded.

"Who would have thought?"

"Not me, that's for sure. You look like the type who sins impenitently," she murmured, taking a drink.

He grinned and leaned forward eagerly, watching as her words sank into her brain.

"I mean… that's not…" she blushed, looking around wildly.

"It's okay. Mercifully, I know what you meant."

"Maybe I _should_ stop drinking," she uttered, biting her lip.

_That lip, that full, tempting lip…_

"Hermione!"

She looked up and Draco heard Red approach.

"We're all going to— hey, Malfoy!" she giggled, eyeing them both curiously.

Draco nodded coolly at her.

"What is it, Ginny?"

"Oh, it's just that we're all calling it a night. You don't mind, do you? If you want, I can stay with you for a while longer…"

"No, no! It's okay. I've had enough fun to last me a while. Thanks, though," Hermione smiled brightly at her friend.

"Do you need help Apparating or…" she trailed off suggestively, glancing at Draco.

"No, I'm fine. _Really._ You get home safe, alright?" Hermione said, standing up and embracing the redheaded woman.

Draco got an eyeful of her luscious arse and bit back a groan.

"You too. If you need anything just send a Patronus and I'll be here. Goodnight! Malfoy," Red nodded again, glancing at the pair of them one last time before walking away.

Draco couldn't believe his luck and resisted the urge to smile like a loon.

"_Are_ you okay to Apparate home, Granger?"

"I'll be fine," she nodded, waving her hand around carelessly. "I'll just finish this drink here and be on my way."

She smacked her lips in satisfaction before setting down galleons on the table. Hermione rose to her feet and swayed for a second before steadying herself; she gave a little salute to Draco before walking off.

He watched her go before his brain kicked in and told him he shouldn't just let her go like that.

_Who knows what trouble she'd get herself in? Especially looking like that and in that state._

He paid his tab and followed after her, craning his neck to look for her. His heart thumped unevenly in his chest as the thought of losing her entered his mind.

_Surely she can't have gone far? But what if she Apparated already? Maybe she splinched herself and is in a ditch in Merlin knows where..._

Thankfully, his eyes finally found her leaning forlornly against a wall and he stalked to her.

"Where do you think you're going in that state?" he scolded her, standing to his full height.

She rolled her eyes and straightened, making Draco notice that the heels she wore put her closer to his stature.

"I'm fine. Really."

"You are not, Granger. Would you please allow me to see you home?"

She gave him an odd look before leaning back against the wall once more.

"Are you dizzy?"

Her eyes fluttered close and she nodded.

"A little bit."

Draco resisted the urge to sigh exasperatedly but got a brilliant idea.

"Do you trust me?"

She frowned and opened her eyes, looking at him blearily.

"What?"

"Do you trust me, Hermione?"

She stared at him for a long moment, moonlight shining in her eyes and face.

"I trust you, Draco," she whispered.

Warmth flowed through his veins at her words and smiled tenderly at her, taking a gentle hold of her arm and Disapparating with a _pop!_

They arrived in his flat and he sat her down carefully, as though she were the most precious thing to him ever.

_Which isn't far from the truth… goodness, since when have I become such a pathetic sap?_

"Where are we?"

"We're in my flat. I brought you here since I don't know where you live and I didn't want you to get splinched, or worse," he frowned. "So I'm going to pump you full of caffeine until you're sober again."

She groaned and leaned back into his sofa, closing her eyes.

"Not fair," she slurred.

"Don't fall asleep on me," he warned, magicking his coffee pot and sitting by her side.

"'m not."

"You are too. You're not even speaking coherently!"

"You're far too coherent," she sighed, cracking an eye to look at him.

"I didn't drink that much. Besides, I'm sure I handle my alcohol much better than you," he reasoned, sitting as close to her as he dared.

She made a noise of derision at the back of her throat but didn't reply otherwise. Draco watched her, fascinated despite her less than sober state.

_Merlin, she's beautiful. Weasley could live a thousand lifetimes and still not deserve her. The same could be argued for me, really._

"Hermione? You better not be asleep."

"I'm not, Draco. Just resting my eyes…"

He chuckled and shook her gently, reveling in the feel of the silken skin of her shoulder.

"You smell that?"

"Yes… coffee has never smelled so appealing. I'll never drink again," she moaned, raising a hand to gently massage her temple.

"I'll hold you to that."

"Draco?" she whispered, eyes still closed.

"Yes?"

"Thank you," she smiled, turning her head limply and finally opening her eyes.

There was a slight fog in her eyes but they were bright and warm as they watched Draco.

"You're welcome. But don't tell too many people. Can't have you ruining my reputation."

"Oh?"

"Big bad ex Death Eater," he explained, shrugging.

She scowled and forced herself upright but ended up swaying, almost doing a nosedive into Draco's lap. As much as he would've liked that, he knew it wouldn't be right to take advantage of her when she's not in command of all of her senses... or her brain.

"That's rubbish!" she cried angrily, gripping his arms tightly.

Her fierce loyalty warmed the cockles of his cold heart.

Countless cups of coffee and disjointed conversation later, she'd finally regained her bearings for the most part.

A pink blush crept up on her cheeks as she eyed him shyly.

"Thank you, Draco. You certainly didn't have to do this."

"I know," he shrugged, giving his best shot at nonchalance.

"Well… I'll be off now."

Funnily enough, she remained in the same spot.

"I'm sorry about your engagement," she finally told him, pressing a soft kiss on his cheek.

But before Draco could get a chance to reply, she had Disapparated. He stared at the spot, already feeling the loss of her presence. His cheek felt warm, tingles running through his body and Draco pressed trembling fingers against the very spot her lips pressed against.

_If there was any room for doubt previously... I can confidently proclaim beyond a shadow of a doubt that I'm most definitely, irrevocably in love with Hermione Granger. Oh, bother._

* * *

Ah, one engagement broken, one more to go. Coming up next...

Thanks for reading!


	17. Chapter 17

This is it! Gird your loins, people.

Disclaimer: I still own nothing.

* * *

Hermione stared at herself in the big mirror, turning this way and that every so often.

_So this is what it feels like to be the bride._

Despite the fact that Hermione was waiting in the church with the ceremony minutes away from commencing, she couldn't help but feel a sort of detachment toward it all.

_That's probably because I was never particularly interested in marriage. I mean, doesn't every little girl plan her doll's wedding one point in her childhood? I never did that. I always found books infinitely more appealing than organizing a wedding for my toys. As a matter of fact, I used to read **to** them more than I used them. But I digress. M__aybe I feel like this because Molly and Fleur practically planned every aspect of this wedding out for me. I would have done it myself but I knew I would have done a poor job of it and that's when they offered. I mean, it's not like I forced them, right? So despite everything being approved by me, it all feels vaguely impersonal._

A bloom of insecurity suddenly twisted her heart.

_What if… no. No, no… a thousand times no. You __**love**__ Ron, Hermione! You've been dating him for the past five years and fancied him for just as long! You cannot back out now. You're just nervous. The distance and coldness between you two is what'__s got you hesitant. But that doesn't mean you don't love Ron. Besides, every couple has their fair share of disagreements. You __**knew**__ that those wouldn't be lacking when you began a relationship with him. Think of all the rows you had with him in the Gryffindor common room. You're making a bigger deal out of things than what they really are. As the years pass, Ron's bound to mature. Besides, if you had any real doubt, you wouldn't be standing in a church wearing a wedding dress._

She swallowed heavily and looked at her pallid face.

"The man who loves you is out there, waiting for you. Don't you let him down," she told her reflection firmly.

_Just because your relationship has been rocky, it doesn't mean it'll be like that forever. It'll pass. I love Ronald Weasley and he loves me. __**He **__would never dream of deserting me._

That seemed to assure her so she flashed a quick, reassuring smile at her reflection.

"Good lord, I'm going barmy," she muttered under her breath. "Still, I do look quite pretty."

Pretty would have been an understatement. Although nervous, Hermione looked beautiful. Sure, the style of her dress wasn't to her particular liking but it _was_ stunning. She felt like a princess thanks to the voluminous skirt of the dress, sparkling with every movement she made. It seemed as though diamonds were embedded between the many layers of the frothy fabric. The bodice was strapless and embroidered with pearls and glimmering bits.

Initially, there'd been a bit of controversy over the fact that the dress didn't have any sleeves; Molly had voiced her concerns about the word that was etched on the inside of Hermione's forearm and said that perhaps guests would be scared or curious. But Hermione didn't care. In fact, she was damn bloody proud of that scar and wouldn't let any sort of sleeve cover it up on her wedding day. Molly accepted Hermione's refusal quietly and thus the wedding planning continued.

_I don't think Molly was suggesting that I be ashamed of it but maybe she thought it would make me feel ill at ease. I __**know**__ people will be curious and stare and maybe even ask how I got it, but I refuse to be humiliated about it._

Hermione fingered the satin sash that was tied around her waist, which had been tied into a bow and cascaded down the back of her dress. No matter how much she arched to try to get a look, she wasn't able to see the bow but Fleur had assured her endlessly that it was perfectly knotted.

Her fingers traveled up to the dainty pearl necklace around her throat and smiled.

_Mum was too kind in giving it to me. I'm sure she was a little more than relieved to hand it over to me considering that it's been passed from mother to daughter. Looks like it'll be in my hands before it's my turn to pass it on._

She wore a matching set of earrings, which gleamed softly in the light. Sitting atop her head was a tiny, shining tiara and connected to that was her veil. Hermione wore a simple hairstyle as to not detract from the beauty of the tiara and veil, Fleur had explained. But despite her best protests, they'd put a full face of makeup on her. Now, it's not that Hermione was against it, but looking at the mirror, it felt as if she wore a mask. Still, she couldn't deny that she looked flawless; wide eyes, rosy lips and flushed cheeks that screamed 'bride' (at least according to Ginny).

Hermione had outright denied the pair of dangerous looking high heels offered her, instead choosing to wear some flats. The blonde grumbled at first but then quickly agreed when Hermione brought up the possibility that she could fall flat on her face and ruin all of Fleur's hard work.

And so there she stood, alone and nervous, twisting her engagement ring around her finger.

_I wonder what Draco's doing._

A flash of surprise passed through Hermione's face.

_This is the wrong time to be thinking of him. Instead, you should be focusing on your soon-to-be husband. Is he nervous? Of course he is. Ron's always been uneasy when it comes to large crowds. I bet he looks ridiculously handsome in his tuxedo, even if it hadn't been his outfit of choice. I mean, we're mostly doing this wedding the Muggle way. It would look a bit weird to have him wearing robes in church. He finally gave in when I told him he could wear robes for the reception, which will be held at the Burrow since it seems to be the Weasley standard._

Still, Draco continued to pop up in her thoughts.

_Stop it! Of all the times to pop up… stop messing with my head. Quit smiling that smile that's only flashed at me. Those silvery eyes, smoldering when he looks at me. _

"I feel nothing for Draco Malfoy. I love my fiancé," she told herself stiffly.

But as she stared at herself, Hermione felt cold dread sweeping through her veins as the abrupt thought of _I don't want to do this_ flashed through her head. A wave of panic hit her suddenly, leaving her reeling and Hermione staggered back. She clutched the skirts of her dress tightly, staring around wildly.

_I can't... this isn't..._

A light knock on the door caught her attention, distracting her from her ensuing horror.

"Mione? Can I come in?"

She frowned and turned to stare at the door in astonishment.

"Ron? What are you…?"

He opened the door quickly and shut it quietly behind it. He let out a tense breath of air and turned to look at her. His expression immediately softened as his eyes took her in.

"Mione…" he breathed out. "Merlin's beard, you look… beautiful."

She felt herself blush with pleasure and looked down humbly. But something nagged at her.

"Wait a minute, you're not supposed to be here Ron! It's bad luck to see the bride!" she hissed at him, making shooing motions with her hands.

"I _am_ the luckiest sod ever."

"Ron," she reprimanded, glaring at him.

He shook his head as though to clear his thoughts and looked at her intently. Her stomach churned at the urgency in his eyes.

"What is it?" she whispered, imagining the worst. "Did something happen out there? Is everybody okay?"

"Mione, no, everything is fine. Everybody is okay," he assured her, reaching out to grasp her hands in reassurance.

"Oh. What… why are you here, then?" she queried, looking up at his face.

"Mione."

She swallowed the lump that knotted her throat as his eyes revealed everything she wanted to know.

"I love you, you know that. I have loved you… for years. You were my beacon of light where there was nothing but darkness," he smiled fondly at her.

Her body grew cold despite that his hands were comfortably warm.

"We've grown up; tough not to do when we had no other choice. But…" his voice wavered. "I think we've been growing _apart_ these past months."

Hermione felt her heart plummet down to her toes at the truth in his words.

"I rushed us into this and there's nobody else to blame but me," he confessed guiltily.

"What do you mean?" she choked out.

His lips trembled but he continued to look back at her, grasping her hands even tighter in his own.

"I proposed to you out of pure selfishness. I'd ran into Collins in Diagon Alley ages ago and he'd told me about how you and Malfoy spent the entire evening chatting in your own little bubble. Y'know, _that_ evening. I'm not going to lie, Mione, it _hurt_. But I let my jealousy get the worst of me and I got the harebrained idea to ask you to marry me. I immediately went to mum, who was nothing short of ecstatic, and wrote to everybody to meet at the Burrow so I could propose. The quicker it happened, the faster you'd be mine."

Hermione felt speechless and stared blankly at Ron, who swallowed thickly. All of a sudden, his hands felt overwhelmingly hot and she wanted nothing more than to pull hers away but he held on tight.

"But instead of feeling entirely happy when you said yes, I also felt equally guilty and disgusted with myself. How could I fool you into marrying me when there were less than innocent motives behind it?" he groaned, closing his eyes for a few seconds. "My paranoia concerning Malfoy grew. I was so jealous I could have probably spit fire at the sight of him. It didn't help that the bastard hardly responded and only worsened the closer you got to him. I think, however, that the cherry on the cake was listening to him call you by your name and you by his. That almost killed me."

Hermione's numbness slowly started to fade and soon her veins felt like they'd been emptied of blood and replaced with scorching lava instead.

"I used you, Hermione and I can't forgive myself. I asked you to marry me for all the wrong reasons. Thinking back, had I waited a little longer… things would have probably turned out alright."

His blue eyes, sparkling with unshed tears, never once wavered from her face. But somehow, Hermione wasn't the least bit inclined to feel for him.

"Mione? Are you in shock? Say something," he urged her, shaking her gently.

"Were you _ever _planning to propose?" she whispered dazedly.

"Yes. It was never my intention to _not _make you my wife."

"I see."

"Is that all you've got to say?"

"There's _a lot_ I would like to tell you, Ronald Bilius Weasley. However, the foremost thought that comes to me is…" her voice broke, "…what an absolutely selfish arse you are."

He didn't look too shocked at her words and even nodded in agreement.

"I know, Hermione. I'm _so_ sorry."

She pulled her hands away in revulsion and gave him the fiercest scowl she could manage.

"You proposed to me because you felt jealous and insecure! Who does that?" she hissed, gritting her teeth together to keep from shouting or bawling. "Not only have you broken my trust, but you've broken my illusion of you."

"Hermione—"

"No! Stop it! I'm tired of excuses, Ron!" she sobbed. "Maybe you're right. Perhaps if you had waited, there would have been a chance for us to actually be happy and grow together despite our differences."

He sighed in relief and even gave her a weak little smile.

"I knew you'd—"

"But there is _no_ way that is ever happening now," she told him stonily.

His face went slack with surprise, pale eyebrows furrowed.

"Your proposal was a mistake and there's no way I'm committing an even disastrous one by marrying you. Maybe you're right. We _are_ too different and not in a good way. Who knows what'd be headed for us down the line? Bitterness? Hatred? I don't want to ever reach a point where I'd grow to resent you, Ron. I've loved you for a little over half of my life and it would sadden me to push away the comical, strong and loyal boy I once knew. I love you and I always will but I don't think I've been _in_ love with you for a while now," she whispered, feeling the cold tears roll down her overly hot cheeks. "I'm so sorry, Ron. But I can't go through with this now... or ever."

His own tears trickled out and he attempted to wipe them away in vain, only to have more roll down.

"Mione… I won't let anything blind me anymore. I'll do right by you, if only this once," he croaked, clearing his throat.

"It's the least you could do," she whispered angrily.

"Can I… can I ask you something?" he asked hesitantly.

She gave her head a vague jerk, which Ron clearly took to be affirmative.

"Do you love him?"

She had expected any question but that one.

"No, I don't."

_Do you? _her heart whispered treacherously.

Even if he looked slightly haggard, Ron managed to sigh in relief.

"You deserve better than him," he nodded, clasping his hands together.

She fixed him with cold stare that made him fidget.

"Okay, so it's really none of my business."

"Not anymore, no."

"I _am_ sorry, Mione," he whispered.

She looked down and sighed, shaking her head slightly.

"I'm sorry too, Ron. More than you'll ever know," Hermione lamented through trembling lips.

"I'll… take care of everything. Don't you worry," he guaranteed her.

"Can you?" she quipped acerbically, raising a perfectly sculpted brow.

He blushed brightly but nodded.

"Thank you, Ron," she whispered softly, raising her hand to touch his cheek lightly.

The diamond in her ring glinted almost mockingly and Hermione lowered her hand and slipped it off her finger. She took Ron's hand and pressed it into his palm, who stared at it with his lips pressed into a thin line before curling his fingers around it. Their eyes met for a few seconds before he turned, leaving without another word.

Hermione lifted her heavy skirt hastily, knowing everybody would be crashing in there any second. She'd stowed her wand under her garter and gripped it tightly, letting her skirt fall and raised her wand, concentrating of the first place that came to mind. None too early because just seconds after Apparating, Molly and Ginny crashed into the room and stared around wildly.

Her skirt fell to the floor with a _thud_ as she let herself catch her breath.

_Hang on…_

She straightened up and looked down the empty hallway and at the number that hung on the dark wooden floor.

_Did his… was his flat really the first place I thought of? I mean, I was in panic, after all. What am I doing here? Why didn't I go to my own place? _

_Well, that would be because there's no doubt that they're all thinking I would hide out there. _

Hermione felt her heartbeat quicken as she hesitantly raised her hand to knock.

_Quickly, before someone spots the madwoman in a wedding dress outside the handsome young man's door._

She knocked hurriedly but after several long moments a horrible thought struck her.

_What if he isn't home? Oh, Merlin… I can't go home and I certainly can't break into his place. Of all the times… looks like I'll have to go to plan b. Now, to think __of__ a plan b._

Just as she started to turn away, the door was swung open to reveal an irritable-looking Draco. But once he caught sight of her his expression fell and he stared at her as though he'd never seen her before in his life; his pink lips parted and his silver eyes grew wide.

"Hermione," he breathed out. "What are you… why are you here?"

"Let me in, won't you? It's urgent."

He looked down at her dress and then up into her eyes before nodding and stepped aside, holding the door wide open for her.

"Thanks," she murmured as she squeezed through his doorway, feeling secure once she heard the _click_ of the lock.

She expected him to bombard her with questions but was quite surprised when he didn't.

"Care for a drink?"

"Yes, please," she whispered raggedly, hearing her heart pound away in her ears.

He strode into his kitchen and grabbed a bottle of Odgen's Old, pouring it into two short glasses.

Since she couldn't really sit in her current frock, she walked toward the kitchen and leaned against the counter. He pushed her glass towards her and watched her as she gripped it, gently tapping his against hers and murmuring _cheers._ Draco finished his drink in one go and so Hermione took a sip and spluttered.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine… never drank straight firewhiskey before," she coughed, pressing her hand against her chest.

She suspected he smirked but didn't look up to see for herself and instead downed the rest of her drink.

"Not bad for a first time. _Now…_ why are you here? Aren't you supposed to getting married somewhere?"

"I ran out."

His eyes watched her seriously and when she remained silent did they start to widen again.

"You ran out on Weasley?" he whispered, awestruck.

"Kind of… but not really. He… sort of sneaked to the room I was waiting in and proceeded to tell me that although he _did_ want to marry me, the only reason he proposed was because… because… he's a jealous prat."

Draco stared at her in confusion.

"He _loves_ you, right?"

"He does. But his love had nothing to do with the proposal. He did out of selfishness because Collins had told him about that night in the Leaky Cauldron and probably assumed that you wanted to snatch me from him… he didn't propose to me because he loves me, Draco," she whispered hoarsely, feeling a new wave of tears roll down her cheeks.

"That foul bastard," he uttered furiously. "I never expected him to be so bloody insecure! Apparently I thought too highly of him."

"He went on to tell me that we've grown apart, which is true enough, but then, as though to stick the knife in further, told me that maybe we could have been happier had he _waited to_ propose," she sobbed, burying her face in her hands.

Before she knew it, Hermione was being held in Draco's arms. Truth be told, it felt good to be held with such warmth and care that it made her sob even louder. Draco merely tightened his grip on her and murmured soothing words to her, pressing his cheek atop her head.

"I loved him! I loved him and he… lied to me," she gasped, grasping fistfuls of his shirt.

"He doesn't deserve your love," he whispered unsympathetically.

That sent her over the edge and caused her to start bawling.

"It will all be okay, Hermione. Let it all out. I'm here for you," he murmured tenderly, pressing her closer to him.

Hermione didn't know how much time she spent in his arms crying; it could have been minutes or hours for all it mattered. But she pulled away as soon as her hiccups dissipated, wiping her face and feeling mortified over breaking down completely in front of Draco.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, looking down ashamedly.

"There's absolutely nothing you should be sorry for," he told her, gently raising her chin so she could look at him.

His grey eyes were soft and his smile was kind, effectively flooding Hermione with affection for him.

"I hope that sodding weasel goes and…" he trailed off, mumbling the last to himself.

Hermione sighed tiredly and attempted to smile.

"I suppose it's my fault too."

"Merlin, you didn't tell him _yes_ because you caught him flirting with a woman, did you?" he eyed her warily.

"Of course not," she frowned, shaking her head.

He let out a sigh of relief and nodded.

"Good. So why do you suppose it's your fault too?"

"I got too comfortable with him, even after noticing that we weren't exactly getting along."

"Have you two _ever_ gotten along?" he questioned, arching a brow.

"There were bouts of peace but then something or other would happen and…"

"The spell would be broken," he guessed, looking at her sadly.

She nodded and heaved a sigh.

"I _knew_ that things weren't right. So what lead me to believe that things could be fixed with a marriage?" Hermione scowled at her flawed logic.

"You wanted to believe that the _love _the two of you had would bring you together and mend it. That's what," he told her softly.

Hermione whimpered and bit her lip painfully to stop.

"Don't. It's only natural to grieve," he whispered to her, brushing his fingertips tenderly against her cheek.

She felt tiny flutters in her stomach at his warm touch and swallowed thickly.

"You make it sound like somebody died."

He ached his eyebrow, questioning her.

"Our love… died," Hermione sighed and closed her eyes.

But instead of bursting into tears again, Hermione simply exhaled loudly and let the part of her that loved Ron go.

"Are you okay?" he whispered, his fingertips fluttering over her forehead and cheeks.

She opened her eyes and crooked the corner of her lips in what could pass as a smile.

"I will be," she assured him quietly.

He smiled fondly at her and Hermione felt something blazing and quivery in her stomach again.

"You look beautiful, by the way," he smiled crookedly at her.

His face brightened so that Hermione felt a jolt run through her body at the sight of him. Not to mention that he looked (as) casual (as Draco could be) but handsome all the same. He wore dark charcoal slacks and a black oxford shirt with his sleeves rolled up and a few buttons unbuttoned near the top; it gave her a peek of his toned, alabaster chest. She felt herself blush and looked up at him again and he, in turn, was watching her curiously.

_Respond you ninny! He just complimented you! He's obviously wondering if that firewhiskey has gone to your head._

"Thank you, although I'm sure you're being a little too kind. I saw the amount of makeup they plastered on my face and I _know_ it can't all still be in place," she answered, suddenly overwhelmed by self-consciousness. "Maybe I should just wash it off for once and for all."

"_Mi casa es tu casa_."

She couldn't help but giggle at this, eliciting a smile from him.

"The restroom is on the… left, right?" she asked, raising her arm to point.

"Correct," he nodded at her and then glanced casually down his hallway.

His eyes, however, snapped back to her arm. Hermione belatedly realized that he was staring at the 'Mudblood' that his aunt engraved upon her inner arm. He froze, his eyes never leaving the scar.

"Draco?"

He even seemed to have stopped breathing.

"It's just a scar, Draco. It doesn't hurt anymore," she told him soothingly.

That seemed to snap him out of it.

"I'd… I'd never seen it before," he uttered in a hollow tone.

"I tend to keep it covered for work," she explained. "I know the stares would never stop if I didn't."

"Sorry," he mumbled apologetically, tearing his eyes away.

"It's okay. I don't mind. I do it so I don't make people uncomfortable," she shrugged.

He frowned, looking the very picture of confusion.

"You… don't mind?"

"No," she told him honestly.

"You don't mind having a _filthy, monstrous _word forever scarred on your skin?" he asked slowly, as though making sure they're talking about the same thing.

"There's nothing for me to be ashamed of. It's what I am."

Hermione watched him lick his lips and then stare at the scar in question.

"You, Hermione Granger, are not only the brightest witch of our age but also _the _bravest," he breathed out shakily.

"Draco?" she asked worriedly, watching the parade of emotions flood through his face.

"I couldn't even _look_ at you!" he choked out, doubling over.

"Draco!" Hermione cried, leaning down to grasp his arms. "What are you talking about?"

"The sound of your screams sickened me to my core but I didn't do anything to keep her from torturing you. I'm _so _sorry, Hermione. I was a bleeding coward! Long after you left, I could still hear your cries ringing through the air. I couldn't sleep, couldn't eat and couldn't forgive myself for almost watching you die before me…" Draco wept, falling to his knees.

"Draco, there was nothing you could have done to stop her. Even if you had attempted, I'm sure she wouldn't have batted an eyelash before torturing you as well," she whispered, going down on her knees and holding him tightly. "Or worse."

_Perish the thought._

"I was still a coward, Hermione. I couldn't kill Dumbledore, I couldn't tell father that it _was_ Potter and I couldn't tell Aunt Bella to leave you alone," he cried, wrapping his arms around her in a vice. "I couldn't even face you after my trial!"

"Draco," Hermione crooned, rubbing his back affectionately. "You need to stop blaming yourself for things that happened long ago."

"What if you had _died_, Hermione? What if that bitch—"

"Draco, _please_. You're only harming yourself. You're someone who was under the worst of influences. Look at how you've redeemed yourself! You've definitely come a long way. What I told you on your first day isn't something I said for the hell of it, Draco. I'm truly proud of you."

He mumbled indistinctly into the waist of her gown before sniffling and straightened up. His gossamer hair was mussed and his eyes were watery and bright red, the tip of his nose the same pink as his cheeks. He also appeared to be avoiding looking at her.

"Draco… you need to stop thinking so little of yourself. It breaks my heart at how much you disparage yourself."

He finally looked at her and Hermione felt a little lurch in her stomach.

_Lord, even after crying he still looks good. How is that even fair? I, on the other hand, probably look like a clown that was left out in the rain for too long._

"Why?" he whispered with pewter eyes that seemed to look into her soul.

_Well, it's now or never, right? There's nothing like the present to tell the truth._

"Because I care about you, you dimwit," she smiled gently at him.

His forehead creased as he seemed to consider her response.

"You… care for me?"

"I like you, Draco," Hermione blushed deeply, ignoring the urge to look away from those blazing eyes of his.

_Circe, it's like he can see right through me. Or at the very least, he's attempting to._

* * *

It's finally out there! I almost split this chapter into two but I didn't want to put you through any more misery. Anywho, thanks for reading, ya'll. :)


	18. Chapter 18

A/N: Sorry for the ridiculously late update, everybody. I'd been hemming and hawing whether to delete this fic or to go back and edit the chapters thoroughly. You see, while I consider myself an okay writer, I feel as though my stories often lack something. Most times I'd like to think it's depth. So, I stopped updating and read fics that had that in abundance. It was inspiring, to say the least. But I digress. I'm moderately happy with the writing in this fic but there's still things I've yet to smooth over (such as making Ron a little more three-dimensional) but I'd like to think I'll get there.

Without further ado, I hope you enjoy this chapter.

* * *

"You… _like_ me?" Draco questioned, staring at her unblinkingly.

_Maybe I'm just hearing things. Perhaps I simply imagined it. But that doesn't explain the beautiful flush spreading across her face._

She blinked prettily at him, looking at him concernedly.

"Yes, I like you," she stated simply.

_Not very helpful, Granger._

"Why… how… when?" he whispered, watching her as though she were the sun itself.

"I think I realized just how troubled you were and that none of it was your fault, at least not intentionally, back at your trial. But then I ran into you at Flourish and Blott's and you were perfectly cordial with me, which admittedly caught me off guard. But then you started working with me… and pondered whether that was the man that had been hiding inside the cruel Malfoy I used to know all along back in Hogwarts. I must admit I felt a little cheated because I might've been his friend… or maybe not; young Hermione might have gotten on his nerves. But I digress. You always kept your cool, even when I felt like my head was going to explode any second and knew how to calm me down without getting frustrated yourself. I must admit that one of my favorite parts of going to work…" she blushed and the mere act flamed Draco's curiosity. "My favorite part (aside from helping magical creatures, _of course_) was our banter. You were still in possession of your notoriously sharp tongue and clever mind but without all the resent and hatred that practically oozed out of you back in school."

Draco blushed and got the urge to look away but Hermione's eyes were so big and resplendent that he couldn't bear to do so.

"It sneaked up on me. Liking you, I mean. I never expected to grow _so_ fond of you, despite our differences back in school. Maybe Ron picked that up somewhere along the way; that would certainly explain all his _deeper_ feelings of enmity towards you," she reasoned, blinking wisely. "But then a part of me felt guilty for liking you while wearing his ring on my finger. It certainly helped me to keep my distance when you told me you were engaged."

"Were you sad?" he asked, interested in her answer.

She remained in silence for a moment until she jerked her head noncommittally.

"I think a part of me felt discontented," Hermione admitted nervously. "But you certainly threw me in for a loop when you told me that you wouldn't mind getting married to me."

Draco snorted softly, shaking his head.

"It was probably wrong of me to tell you that."

"But it was probably even more wrong for me to tell you I felt the same," she whispered to him, nibbling on her lower lip.

Hope buzzed through his body and he hardly dared to breathe.

"So you meant it."

"Maybe. Or perhaps I was thinking that I'd much rather get married to anybody _but_ Ronald, at the time," she shrugged uneasily.

_Damn._

"But I'm much more inclined to think that I meant it," Hermione told him quietly. "I never fancied myself getting married to anybody. Well, that's a lie. I imagined getting married to him plenty back in school. But then he'd be an arse and those particular daydreams would dissipate. But I digress... after interacting with you for so long, there were times when I'd catch myself thinking that I wished Ron were more like you."

Draco's heart stuttered against his ribcage at her words but couldn't help but smirk.

"Who _wouldn't_ wish their fiancé were more like me? I am the very model of perfection," he told her smugly, waggling his eyebrows at her.

He expected a snippy retort but received the surprise of a lifetime when she giggled. A warm, feminine sound that permeated every pore in his body.

"Especially on that _bloody_ atrocious double date! Ron looked so disheveled and badly put together and there _you_ were, looking like you were sporting the latest and greatest couture," she sighed, cringing at the memory.

"I _was_ wearing the latest and greatest," he grinned at her.

She laughed and rolled her eyes.

"I should have known."

They watched each other and despite the makeup that had ran down her face, she was still the most beautiful woman in the world in his eyes.

"But then, on the night of my bachelorette party, you told me that you broke off your engagement," she whispered suddenly. "It confused me. I didn't know whether to be relieved or guilty…"

"Why would you feel guilty?"

_Oh, Merlin… please don't tell me you know precisely what I feel for you._

"Because I felt relieved that you weren't going to get married after all," she blushed, looking down remorsefully. "I felt so terrible for feeling such thing."

"Is it terrible that _I_ feel relieved that _you_ didn't get married?" he asked her gently.

Her toffee eyes looked up into his and Draco felt his pulse race at the very sight of them trained on him.

"No," she shook her head. "Is it terrible if _I'm _glad _I _didn't get married?"

"Never. Nobody deserves to be unhappy with somebody they once loved. That would be the worst sort of torture."

_Torture. Her scar… stop. Don't think of it lest you start bawling like a child again._

It seemed as though she could read his thoughts because her eyes softened and gave him a reassuring smile.

"I'm fine. _Really_," she insisted.

"I know," he quirked a smile at her.

"You know… before I left, Ron asked me if loved you."

Draco felt himself go cold and tense all at once as his pulse sped up dangerously.

"Oh?" he asked, desperately hoping he sounded casual.

"Yeah. I think part of him wondered whether that was the reason I refused to marry him."

"Hmm," Draco said as noncommittally as possible.

_Could she really love me? Is the weasel truly so sentient? Oh, I must be truly mental to even entertain the very thought. It's never been this easy... why should it be now?_

"I told him that I don't and seemed greatly relieved. He even had the gall to tell me that you didn't deserve me," she muttered darkly.

_How right he is, for once in his miserable life._

"Oh."

It wouldn't be an understatement to say that Draco had never felt so disappointed in his life.

"Still… I wouldn't be the first or last girl to fall in love with Draco Malfoy," she told him coyly, looking at him from under her lashes.

_Yes! __There is hope after all! Oh, thank Salazar. Mother was right… this may not be as one-sided as I'd originally thought._

Draco gave her a genuine smile and gently lifted her chin so he could look at her properly. She sucked in a sharp lungful of air before parting her lips at his touch. An overwhelming ache to kiss her overcame him; it felt as though a flame had abruptly sparked to life within him. The slow burn of it ignited his blood, warming his entire being.

_But it must wait. It __**has**__ to wait. What kind of bastard would I be if I kissed a woman who still wore the dress in which she was supposed to get married (to the world's biggest tosser) in? I must do right by her and Merlin knows she deserves it. She deserves the best, she deserves it all. And by Salazar do I want to be the one who gives it to her._

He could even _hear _the way her respiration sped up.

_Damn it, Hermione. You're doing nothing to help keep my resolve. Oh, but **how** my entire being aches for her._

He leaned down and brushed his lips ever so lightly across her cheeks and finally her forehead. He heard her sigh with something akin (or so Draco hoped) with contentment and opened her eyes to look into his, her cheeks tinged a lovely magenta.

"You should probably get out of this dress before we go and make any hasty declarations of love for each other," he whispered jokingly.

"You're right," she laughed, nodding in agreement.

"I usually am," he smirked, rising and stretching his hand out to help her up.

She didn't hesitate and placed her hand in his as though it were the most natural thing on earth. Draco gave her hand a gentle squeeze before lifting her up easily to her feet. Maybe a little _too_ easily because she ended up stumbling into his arms.

_Will I ever get used to having her so close to me? Merlin, I hope not._

He steadied her and Hermione blushed as she straightened up. Draco noted smugly, however, that she'd kept a firm grasp of his wrists.

"I…"

_Concentrate, damn you!_

"I doubt you arrived with a suitcase in tow, so I'll lend you some clothes. Would that be alright?"

"That'd be perfect," she smiled appreciatively at him, stepping away from him.

"Great. Follow me," he nodded, walking toward his bedroom.

He rifled through his pajama drawers (yes,_ plural_) and held out a pair of black silk pajamas for her.

"They're probably a _tad_ big on you but that's nothing a simple charm can't fix," Draco winked at her, enjoying the way her cheeks turned pink.

She started to walk out of his room when he grabbed on to her arm.

"You can use my bathroom. I promise I don't have any nefarious artifacts hidden in there," he told her wryly, pointing the door out to her.

"Right. Thanks, Draco," she mumbled and floated off.

_Wait a minute… Hermione's in my bedroom. Hermione Granger is in my bedroom. She's going to change in my bathroom. Where I shower and oftentimes had less than gentlemanly thoughts of her._

"Sweet Merlin," Draco groaned, closing his eyes. "Everything okay in there?"

"Peachy. Say, Draco, I'm not _too_ shocked to see so many hair and face products in here," she teased, laughing softly.

Draco felt himself blush and cleared his throat.

"Yes, well… listen, I'll be in the kitchen alright? You take your time and feel free to use anything you might need," he called out, hoping she wouldn't notice the unnerved tone in his voice.

"Okay!" she chirped.

Draco stared at the door and let his imagination run amok for a moment, trying to picture whatever she was currently doing.

"Stop," he hissed. "You may not be much of a gentleman but you're better than this… or so I'd like to think. She deserves better than this! Yes, yes… that. She deserves better than to be debased, particularly when she's in the next room."

"Did you say something, Draco?"

Draco nearly jumped out of his skin at her voice.

_I didn't think she had heard! Merlin's gonads… the woman has good hearing._

"No, nothing! I'll be going now!" he called and literally ran from the room.

He scrambled to the kitchen and poured himself two fingers worth of firewhisky, desperately trying not to picture her losing all those layers of wedding dress in his bathroom.

"Stop it! You're being a cad," he grumbled to himself, tossing back the liquor.

_Maybe I ought to cook her something to eat… I very much doubt she popped into a pub for fish and chips before coming here._

He snorted at the thought but became wildly distracted when he heard his shower run. He gulped and pictured the water cascading down her body, gliding down the curves…

"For fuck's sake, Malfoy! You're a grown man, behave yourself as such. Stop having dirty thoughts as if you were a teenager. Hermione deserves better than that. Now, focus on dinner, damn you."

After his little pep talk, Draco looked through his fridge and realized how dismally stocked it was.

_Hmm… I guess that's why I usually end up having takeout. Pizza! I'll order it now so it'll be here by the time she… erm, yes._

Draco took out the Magical Menu that was often the hallmark of vigorous, employed bachelors (or single people, in general) and tapped his wand on the pizza that he usually ordered. He'd hooked up his Gringott's account to Pietro's Pizzeria (which in turn was linked to his Floo) a long time ago. All he had to do now was wait for confirmation and the pizza would follow soon after.

_Wait a minute. I've never really seen her eat, have I? And I hardly walked by the Gryffindor table to see what she ate back then… she did __**eat**__ her salad at work, hastily, might I add. Oh, Merlin… what if she doesn't eat meat?_

Draco stood up, feeling alarmed at his possible faux pas.

"Well, if she doesn't, I'll simply order another one. Really, Malfoy, quit being so bloody anxious. You don't want to give your feelings for her away too soon, do you? Malfoy's never lose their cool."

_Well, we're not **supposed** to, anyway_, he thought grumpily.

To his relief, the pizza arrived moments before he heard the shower turn off and released the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. Not long after, he heard the door to his bathroom close and soon the one to his bedroom.

"Hmm… what is that delicious smell?" she called, her bare feet padding down the hallway.

She came into his view and his jaw nearly went slack at the side of her.

_Is there anything sexier than Hermione wearing my pajamas? Well… possibly. Still, I imagine this is as sexy as she gets whilst clothed._

Sure enough, Hermione shrunk them down to fit her perfectly; the black silk hugged every curve of her body and Draco idly wondered if she was wearing anything underneath.

_Oh, Merlin… the silk against her velvety, bare skin…_

"I, erm, ordered a pizza for us. I hope you don't mind," Draco informed her, fidgeting beneath his cool exterior.

She grinned widely at him and stepped closer to him.

"That might be the smartest idea I've heard from you," she joked, sticking the tip of her tongue out playfully.

_Sweet Salazar! Even her tongue looks plump and tempting._

Draco watched her take her wand out from her pocket, point it at her hair and watched as it plaited itself.

"Where'd you have your wand? I didn't see you holding it when you came in."

"I had tucked it into my garter for safekeeping," she blushed, brushing her fingers against the counter.

_Oh, gods._

"Well, here's the pizza so tuck in while it's still hot," he murmured, trying his best to appear as at unaffected as possible.

"Went all out, did you?" she teased, looking down at the myriad of pizza toppings.

"I wasn't sure what you liked so I chose the pizza that had them all," he muttered, feeling slightly abashed.

"Hey, don't worry about it," she told him softly, pressing her hand over his. "This so happens to be my favorite."

"Thank Merlin," he chuckled, relishing the warmth of her hand.

"So, beverages?"

"Fridge."

She gave his hand a gentle squeeze and walked toward said appliance.

"Hm…"

"What is it?"

"Draco, you have an inordinate amount of alcohol in your kitchen. Should I be worried?" Hermione questioned, peering over her shoulder to look at him.

"No, of course not. My days of binge drinking are over," he answered honestly.

She gave him a scrutinizing look before nodding, seeming to decide he told the truth.

"That said, there's nothing like Muggle beer with pizza and I'm a little more than surprised to see some in your fridge," she laughed.

Draco blushed as she set the bottles on the counter.

"What can I say? I was curious and ended up liking it."

"An open mind… I like that," she smiled, tapping her wand against the tops and directing them to go to the trash bin.

"Cheers," he smiled at her, feeling genuinely happy to have her by his side.

_Despite the reason she came here in the first place._

They polished the whole pizza off in comfortable silence and Hermione looked as though she was in her own little world once they'd finished.

"Hermione?"

_Oh, Merlin… what if she starts to cry over that tosser again? There's nothing to do but hold her and tell her that everything will be alright. If __**he**__ doesn't think I deserve her, then surely he must deserve her even less._

"What's wrong?" Draco asked, at the ready for her to burst into tears.

"Would this count as our first date?" she asked him offhandedly although a telltale blush was already warming her cheeks.

"If you want," he answered her avidly.

She swallowed nervously but nodded.

"Yes. Very much so."

Draco smiled slowly at her, causing her blush to deepen.

Night finally arrived and Draco thus insisted that she sleep on his bed. Hermione finally consented when once _he_ agreed to turn his couch into a bed.

"Don't you know what my magic is capable of?" he questioned haughtily, smirking.

To which she rolled her eyes to and chucked one of his goose down pillows at him.

Draco had secretly hoped that she'd ask him to sleep with her on his bed but knew it was far too early in their relationship for such a thing and knew it might end up unsettling her. So after watching him turn his couch into a smaller version of his bed, she beamed at his impeccable transfiguration skills and allowed him to walk her to his bedroom.

He promptly tucked her in and pressed a lingering kiss on her cheek and forehead before murmuring tender words to her. Draco watched in rapt fascination as her eyelids drooped slowly; she'd obviously been much more tired than she'd let on. He observed how her eyelashes seemed to caress her cheek and just how _innocent_ and _exquisite_ she looked. He finally forced himself to turn off the light and walked back to his living room before she opened her eyes and saw him staring at her like some kind of pervert. Still, he couldn't deny just how much he liked seeing her curled up in his bed.

He finally settled in his makeshift bed and felt a strange but pleasurable sense of pride when she'd complimented his wandwork.

_My parents didn't care about all that stuff, they only wanted me to be the best. But her… she cares. She __**cares**__ and I'm almost unsure of what to do with such attentiveness because it's never happened before. It warms my heart… it makes me love her even more._

"Goodnight, Hermione," he whispered, closing his eyes. "May you wake up with a lighter heart and brighter future."

* * *

As always, thanks for reading!


	19. Chapter 19

A/N: I keep forgetting to update. XD

* * *

Hermione slept well, for the most part.

It wasn't until the rays of the sun warmed her skin when she woke, shooting up in bed and staring at her surroundings alertly.

_Where am I? Why am I not in my…_

A glint of white caught her eye from the corner of the room and Hermione she turned to look at it. It was a dress, _her_ white wedding dress, as a matter of fact. Just like that, the events from yesterday flooded her memory. She clapped her hand over her mouth, stifling a sob before weeping as silently as she dared.

_It wasn't a dream… it really happened._

She forced herself to take deep breaths lest she wake Draco up.

_Draco… Draco!_

She sniffled and looked down at the pyjamas covering her body; they were black and made of the finest silk (_undoubtedly_, Hermione thought) galleons could buy. It surprised her to notice that its owner's scent seemed to linger in the fabric. Hermione had caught a whiff of Draco every now and then back at the office and it never failed to stay in her nose, teasing her. Draco's cologne was clean with a leathery tone, all very masculine and appealing. Hermione felt a shiver run down her spine and inhaled deeply, appreciating how the fresh aroma of detergent mixed with his personal scent and enveloped her like a soothing hug.

_Wait a minute… I told Draco how I felt about him, but he never said how he feels about me._

Hermione swallowed thickly and stared at the gap between his curtains, watching the sliver of sunshine peek through.

_Well, Hermione… think. Not only has he told you that he wouldn't mind marrying you but he also gave you refuge after calling your wedding off. He consoled you and even lent you clothes. Hell, he practically forced you to take his bed! He must feel something… right? He might have been a bastard at Hogwarts but he's changed for the better. Could he really feel something for me too?_

She contemplated snuggling under the covers once more but knew she wouldn't be able to go back to sleep. So instead, she swung her legs over the edge of Draco's ridiculously tall bed and stretched, feeling all the tension she felt yesterday disappear. She glanced at the open door of his restroom and considered taking another shower.

_Don't be ridiculous. You took one last night. Besides, the sound might wake the master of the house… is he really sleeping? Maybe I could cook him breakfast as a thank you for going above and beyond for me. Moreover, what man doesn't like to be awoken by the smell of food?_

Hermione all but leaped out of bed, grabbed her wand from the nightstand and padded down the silent hallway. She heard light snoring as soon as she peeked from the corner of the hallway and spotted Draco sleeping on his back. She looked around nervously (as if anybody could spot her) and crept closer to him, gripping her hand tightly with both of her hands.

_He looks so… peaceful. Have I ever seen him so relaxed? Probably not. It's like he __**has**__ to put up these barriers around him to keep him from showing what he truly feels. A defense mechanism, if you will. Look at him, he looks like an angel._

One of his hands rested on his stomach while his other arm was raised above his head, ever so gracefully despite his lack of consciousness. His blanket was twisted between his long legs and Hermione instantly felt awful for hogging his bed, despite the fact that he'd transfigured his couch into a bed no bigger than the ones they'd slept in back in Hogwarts. But since Draco was a grown man now, it was a bit of a cramped fit for him.

Hermione snapped her eyes to his face, transfixed by the tranquility in it. She peered closer and saw that his golden eyelashes brushed against his cheek. Her eyes roved to his pink lips and noticed that despite being thin, the bottom one looked lush… and _so_ temptingly soft.

_The better to kiss with, my dear._

Hermione blushed and observed the contours of his jaw and finally found herself staring at his pale throat. He'd buttoned his pajama top all the way up but the top two must have come undone in his sleep; a few chest hairs glinted temptingly, scattered on his alabaster chest.

Hermione blushed deeper.

_What are you doing? Step away before he wakes up and catches you watching him like a pervert! _

She practically ran to his kitchen, placing a handy Silencio in the room so she wouldn't wake him.

Hermione proceeded to open his fridge and observed the abysmal produce inside with a frown.

"Do we not pay him enough or what?" she muttered under her breath, standing on her tiptoes to look at the top tier.

Gathering the most essential of ingredients, she finally got to work. He'd stir every now and then, causing Hermione to shoot him wary glances but he would (thankfully) remain asleep.

She managed to find plates and utensils and set everything down quietly as she could despite the spell she cast. Even so, there was only so much she could do before Draco started to rouse once more, making the cutest little sounds Hermione ever did hear. She heard him inhale deeply, looking away to give him his privacy after waking up.

"Something smells delicious," he spoke huskily, sitting up and stretching his arms above him.

Hermione felt a little jolt travel down her spine at the tone of his voice and managed not to blush.

"Good morning," she smiled at him.

He gave her (what she deemed to be) an adorable sleepy smile in return, standing up slowly.

"G'morning. How did I not hear you?" he yawned, ambling toward the kitchen.

She raised her wand and twirled it between her fingers just as he stood across from her.

"Show off," he mumbled good-naturedly, looking down at the spread.

Sure, tufts of his platinum hair were sticking up in the back of his head but Hermione had never seen anybody wake up looking so attractive.

_Not fair._

She smiled at his comment and tucked her wand into the waistband of the pajama bottoms, motioning for him to tuck in.

"It smells incredible, Hermione."

"Ron may have criticized my cooking way back then but I'm proud to say there is not one thing I can't do when I put my mind to it," she beamed at him.

At the mention of Ron's name Hermione noticed how Draco's smile fell slightly but he didn't comment, opting to pick up his fork instead. After loading it, he raised it to his mouth and chewed thoughtfully before breaking out in a wide smile.

"These _have_ to be the most delicious scrambled eggs ever. What did you put in them?" he asked before elegantly feeding himself some more.

"Love."

He glanced up at her in mid-chew and stared.

"I'm just kidding," she chuckled. "Butter. Quite a bit of it, actually."

He smirked and swallowed, picking up his napkin and dabbing at the corners of his mouth.

"You have manners," she sighed dreamily.

He raised his brow in question and took a drink of juice.

"I'm a Malfoy. Of course I have manners," he told her imperiously, taking a bite of toast.

Hermione laughed and took a bite of the scrambled eggs.

"Ron used to shovel food in his mouth and oftentimes wouldn't even bother swallowing before talking," she grimaced, remembering all the times she had to wipe her face.

Draco scowled and shook his head.

"Why am I not surprised?" he murmured, eating more of his eggs.

Hermione watched him, waiting for him to throw a barb at Ron.

"Your food's going to get stone-cold if you keep staring at me," he uttered, looking up at her from under his eyelashes.

Hermione felt her cheeks warm up but didn't respond and looked down at her plate, jamming toast into her mouth. She heard him chuckle quietly and glared at him when it made him smirk.

_Ugh, I knew the irritating Malfoy I knew back in school had to be somewhere under there._

She glanced at his plate and saw that it was empty.

"There's more, if you want. I put a warming charm so it wouldn't go cold."

"Hermione Granger, always going the distance."

While his words might've sounded less than nice, his tone sounded proud and impressed. She flushed and watched him as he raised his hand and lazily did a beckoning motion. She looked behind her and felt her eyes widen as the pan levitated and zoomed towards him.

"How did… that was… wow. I'm very impressed, Draco! I didn't… I wasn't aware your wandless magic was so good."

He gave her a smug smile and started to refill his plate, looking up at her as though asking if she wanted anymore. After shaking her head, he shrugged a shoulder and loaded his plate.

_I'd forgotten just how much men can eat. How does he stay fit? It's incredible._

"Living in solitude does that to you. With nobody else to talk to, there's not much else but reading and practicing," he answered quietly, any traces of his smile gone.

"Why were you living alone? Was it by choice?"

His eyes flickered up to hers, observing her as he chewed.

"It was, yes. Mother had offered to let me stay with her but I couldn't do that."

"How come?"

"I didn't want to remind her of fath— _Lucius_. I knew just what she was going through and seeing me wouldn't make things any easier. So I kept to myself, only going out in public with a disguise when I needed provisions."

"It couldn't have been easy. You were always surrounded by your friends at school. Or so it seemed, anyway. It's what I saw at the Great Hall," she blushed, partially feeling assuming for saying such a thing.

He gave her a ghost of a smile as he ate the last of his sausage.

"It definitely took some getting used to," he admitted. "As for the latter… things aren't always what they seem."

Hermione tilted her head curiously as he wiped at his mouth, placing his napkin atop his empty plate.

"Yes, I was unequivocally the 'most' _everything_ Slytherin."

"Most everything?" Hermione questioned.

"Most popular, most handsome, most rich, most… _experienced_," he smiled slyly at her.

Hermione rolled her eyes, unable to contain the blush that spread across her cheeks.

"Anyway, I _was_ surrounded by friends and although I'd held friendship with most since childhood, mostly because our fathers," he frowned, flicking at the end of the napkin, "but it'd be appallingly easy to tell you how many of them were standing by my side sixth year. Or at the end of the war, really."

She furrowed her brow, curious.

"Nobody, Hermione. I was alone. I suppose it was better that way," he said, looking away.

"You cared for them," she whispered.

"Well, what could I do? It was either have friends or obey Voldemort's orders."

Hermione sighed, resting her chin on the back of her hand.

"Anyway…" he said, shaking himself. "Your breakfast was delicious, Hermione. Wands up to you."

"I'm sure you've had better food," she muttered, embarrassed.

"Probably," he shrugged. "But you made it."

Hermione felt herself glow at his praise. They stared at each other for a few seconds before he broke eye contact; she couldn't help but feel a little disappointed.

"Are you feeling better?"

"Nothing sleep couldn't aid," she told him, hoping she sounded cheery.

He quirked a corner of his lips and gave her a mildly disbelieving look.

"That, I agree with. But it's okay if you don't. One day at a time, Hermione. You can't just say, or worse… pretend that nothing's changed," he told her gently.

"You're right. Maybe I'm expecting too much of myself," she whispered, tracing her fingertip along the rim of her glass.

"You are Hermione Granger, aren't you?" he teased.

She looked up at him and felt herself melt at the intensity of his gaze. His eyes usually looked grey, or even silver but right then they looked deeper; almost as though they were brimming with emotion.

"I'm here for you if you need me. Surely you know that."

"I know. Thank you," she told him in a tone just below a whisper.

He nodded and gave her a little smile.

"I'm just glad it's the weekend. Though surely nobody's going to resist owling me or visiting me at work," she frowned.

"So tell them to sod off."

She gave him a reprimanding look but he just grinned impishly at her.

"I wish. But they're my family and friends. I just can't push them away."

"You're far too nice, Hermione."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," she chuckled.

"It is," he told her, looking slightly nauseated.

"You would think so," she told him dryly, magicking the plates and utensils to wash.

He watched her silently until something seemed to occur to him.

"Are we still… going to work together? If memory serves, Mother Weasley mentioned something about you not working in the department after your wedding…" he trailed off, a light pink blush tinting his cheeks.

"I can honestly say I hadn't thought about that," Hermione confessed, biting her lip.

"Well, do you like working for your current department?" he questioned, crossing his arms.

"It's nice. I'm comfortable and…"

Draco gave her a knowing smile.

"Then maybe you should take the position you were offered."

"Maybe…"

"Hermione, if there's any chance you're hesitating because of me you're fretting over nothing," he chided her gently. "I want you do be doing something you love and _actually _want to be doing. Don't let yourself get tied down simply because you have too much of a bleeding heart."

"I do not have a bleeding heart!" she huffed, crossing her arms tightly.

"You do too," he chuckled. "But that's not the point, is it?"

"You're right… it wouldn't be the end of the world if we're not working together, right?" she asked him in a small voice.

He blinked in surprise and reached over to take her hand in his.

"We'll still be able to see each other… I hope. I mean, if you're willing," he told her shyly. "Still, good luck finding someone who makes coffee and tea as well as I do."

She smiled gratefully at him and let out a pent up breath of air.

"You're absolutely right. Thank you, Draco. Really. If I hadn't been watching just how much you've changed, that right there would have done it."

"Just don't let anybody else know. I've got a reputation to upkeep you know," he teased, winking at her.

She mimed zipping her mouth which caused him to laugh; it sounded so warm and deep, Hermione felt as though the sound lodged itself in her skin.

"What now?"

"I should go back to my flat. I'm sure there are Weasleys and Potters waiting for me at my doorstep," she told him grimly.

"You know you _don't_ have to answer to them right away, right? You need to take care of yourself first and then perhaps answer to them afterwards," he said to her, sounding annoyed on her behalf. "Above all, you must always put yourself first... as hokey as it may sound."

Hermione swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded mutely, letting Draco's words wash over her. A warmth settled in her chest and she lowered her gaze, not wanting him to see the tears in her eyes.

_Nobody, aside from my parents, has ever told me that. __Even when I was with Ron... it was all about him. Apples and oranges, Hermione._

"I know."

"Good."

He gave her hand a comforting squeeze before retracting his own, setting it down in his lap.

"Despite everything… I had a good time with you."

He gave her a slow smile that thrilled her all the way from the top of her head to her toes.

"It was my utmost pleasure," he told her huskily.

"I guess now I know who to come to next wedding I call off," Hermione joked.

Draco looked disturbed for a moment before barking out the most humorless laugh ever.

"Don't get too comfortable, Granger. You're going to have to say 'I do' someday," he smirked.

_Change the conversation before it gets awkward, Hermione. Steer away!_

"How come you're not married?"

_Way to go, like that topic's any better._

A startled expression crossed his face before he smiled wryly.

"I'd always found the arranged marriages between purebloods to be a bunch of bullshit," he scoffed, giving his head a shake. "I thought it was extremely antiquated but I kept my mouth shut, knowing it would ultimately make things easier for my parents and whatever poor witch they'd choose for me. But after the war, it was tough dating… let alone arranging a marriage. Who'd want me? As if the Malfoy name wasn't tainted enough…"

"There's always more than meets the eye, as you said."

Her words seemed to have caught him off guard because he simply looked at her as though not knowing what to make of her. He gave himself a little shake but gave her a peculiar little smile.

"Then, Astoria came into my life. She wasn't the one who was promised to me but rather her sister, Daphne. The termination of our brief engagement caused quite a scandal among the old pureblooded families," he snickered. "But I digress. She was everything a man could want in a woman…"

Hermione looked down, a dreadful sadness chilling her to the bone.

"But not to me. After seeing you that rainy day at Flourish & Blott's, I wasn't able to stop thinking about you. It only got a little worse after I started working with you. Any prejudices I held against you were long gone and I couldn't help but fancy you a little bit," he blushed, looking down coyly. "It was almost as though I was getting to know a whole different person. It fascinated me. Of course, I knew you and Weasley were together but that didn't seem like reason good enough for me. Still, I knew it was delusional of me to think you could ever see me any other way other than a colleague. I enjoyed spending any time I could with you, no matter how short the minutes. Despite being an awful prick about you being a know-it-all, I've come to realize just how utterly brilliant and clever you are. No wonder you always beat me back in school despite any studying I managed to do."

Hermione blushed, fidgeting nervously.

"I just see you as you really are, blinded no longer by my immaturity and resentment. You're valiant and strong and so beautiful. I think you're the best kind of beautiful there is, not only as it is blatantly obvious with one look at you but it also reflects on your soul. You're so compassionate and warm and caring… I _see_ you, Hermione," he whispered fervently to her.

She swallowed thickly, feeling a pleasant tingle spread through her extremities.

"Only someone with the same qualities could possibly be able to see that, though," she smiled sagely at him.

She watched as his expression blanched, seeming to give her words serious thought.

"Only _you_ would think so," he smiled, shaking his head with what seemed to be incredulity.

"You don't give yourself enough credit, Draco. You seem to think so highly of me but don't seem to believe that you do. Tell me, what does it say of me if _I _think you're good?"

He remained quiet for a minute or two until the corners of his mouth curled up into a smile.

_Ah! We finally seem to be getting somewhere. He might think I have a bleeding heart, but he definitely doesn't give himself the credit he deserves. I'm not going to coddle him but merely show him who he __**really**__ is._

* * *

As always, thank you for taking the time to read. :)


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